Body found in south mountain reservation

The whirring blades of my MD-902 throbbed against the warm evening air, and I smiled.
From 5,000 feet, the ground flew by in a carpet of dark forests and kelly-green fields. The sun hung low on the horizon in a picturesque array of dazzling orange and gold, and I could make out the narrow strip of the Ohio River to my left, glistening in the fading daylight. This time of year, the trees would be full of the sweet aroma of fresh blossoms, and the frequent rains kept small pockets of fluffy white mist hanging in the treetops. It was a beautiful view, one that reminded me of why being a helicopter pilot trumped flying in a jumbo jet far above the clouds every day of the week.
Fourteen more days, and I’m debt free.
That made me grin even more. I’d been working as a charter pilot ever since I obtained my license at age 19, and after years of keeping my nose to the grindstone, I was closing on the final payment for real-estate in western Pennsylvania. With no debt, a fixer-upper house on 30 rural acres all to myself, and a respectable wage for a 26-year-old pilot, I looked forward to the financial freedom I could now enjoy. Maybe I’d take a vacation, somewhere exotic like Venice Italy, or the Dominican Republic. Or perhaps I’d sock the money back for the day I started a family.
“Remember kleineun, a real man looks after his own.”
My elderly ouma’s voice came back from the depths of my memories, her proud, sun-tanned face rising from the darkness. She and my Rhodesian grandfather had emigrated to the US when they were newlyweds, as the violence against white Boer descendants in South Africa spiraled out of control. My mother and father both died in a car crash when I was six, and it had been my grandparents who raised me. Due to this, I’d grown up with a slight accent that many of my classmates found amusing, and I could speak both English, and Afrikaans, the Boer tongue of our former home.
I shifted in my seat, stretched my back muscles, and glanced at the picture taped to my console. Both my parents flanked a grinning, gap-toothed six-year-old me, at the last Christmas we’d spent together. My mother beamed, her dark hair and Italian features a sharp contrast to my father’s sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. Sometimes, I liked to imagine they were smiling at me with pride at how well I flew the old silver-colored bird my company had assigned to me, and that made the long, lonely flights easier to bear.
A flicker caught my eye, and I broke my gaze away from the photograph.
Perched in its small cradle above the controls, my little black Garmin fuzzed over for a few seconds, its screen shifting from brightly colored maps to a barrage of grey static.
Did the power chord come loose?
I checked, ensuring the power-cable for the unit’s battery was plugged into the port on the control panel. It was a brand-new GPS unit, and I’d used it a few times already, so I knew it wasn’t defective. Granted, I could fly and navigate without it, but the Garmin made my time as a pilot so much easier that the thought of going blind was dreadful.
My fuel gauge danced, clicked to empty, then to full, in a bizarre jolt.
More of the gauges began to stutter, the entire panel seeming to develop terrets all at once, and my pulse began to race. Something was wrong, very wrong, and the sludge inside my bowels churned with sour fear.
“Come on, come on.” I flicked switches, turned dials, punched buttons, but nothing seemed to fix the spasming electronics. Every gauge failed, and without warning, I found myself plunged into inky darkness.
Outside, the sun surrendered to the pull of night, the sky darker than usual. A distant rumble of thunder reverberated above the roar of my helicopter’s engine, and I thought I glimpsed a streak of yellowish lightning on the far horizon to my left.
Calm down Chris. We’re still flying, so it must just be a blown fuse. Stay in control and find a place to set her down.
My sweaty palm slid on the cyclic stick, and both feet weighed heavy on the yaw pedals. The collective stuck to my other hand with a nervous vibration, and I squinted against the abyss outside.
Beep.
I jumped despite myself, as the little Garmin on my panel flared back to life, the static pulling aside to reveal a twitching display. Each time the screen glitched, it showed the colorful map detailing my flight path over the ground below, but I noticed that some of the lines changed, the names shifting, as if the device couldn’t decide between two different versions of the world.
One name jutted out at me, slate gray like most of the major county names, appearing with ghostly flickers from between two neighboring ones.
Barron County.
I stared, confused. I’d flown over this section of southeastern Ohio plenty of times, and I knew the counties by heart. At this point, I should have been over the southern end of Noble County, and maybe dipping lower into Washington. There was no Barron County Ohio. I was sure of it.
And yet it shown back at me from the digital landscape, a strange, almost cigar-shaped chunk of terrain carved from the surrounding counties like a tumor, sometimes there, sometimes not, as my little Garmin struggled to find the correct map. Rain began to patter against my cockpit window, and the entire aircraft rattled from a strong gust of wind. Thick clouds closed over my field of vision like a sea of gray cotton.
The blood in my veins turned to ice, and I sucked in a nervous breath.
Land. I had to land. There was nothing else to do, my flight controls weren’t responding, and only my Garmin had managed to come back to life. Perhaps I’d been hit by lightning, and the electronics had been fried? Either way, it was too dark to tell, but a storm seemed to be brewing, and if I didn’t get my feet on the ground soon, I could be in real trouble.
“Better safe than sorry.” I pushed down on the collective to start my slow descent and clicked the talking button for my headset. “Any station, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, over.”
Nothing.
“Any station, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, requesting emergency assistance, over.”
Still nothing.
If the radio’s dead, I’m really up a creek.
With my hand shaking, I clicked on the mic one more time. “Any station, this is—”
Like a curtain pulling back, the fog cleared from around my window, and the words stuck in my throat.
Without my gauges, I couldn’t tell just how far I’d descended, but I was definitely very low. Thick trees poked up from the ground, and the hills rolled into high ridges with flat valley floors, fields and pastures pockmarking them. Rain fell all around in cold, silvery sheets, a normal feature for the mid spring in this part of Ohio.
What wasn’t normal, were the fires.
At first, I thought they were forest fires for the amount of smoke and flames that bellowed from each spot, but as I swooped lower, my eyes widened in horror.
They were houses.
Farms, cottages, little clusters that barely constituted villages, all of them belched orange flames and black pillars of sooty smoke. I couldn’t hear above the helicopter blades, but I could see the flashes on the ground, along the road, in between the trees, and even coming from the burning buildings, little jets of golden light that spat into the darkness with anger.
Gunfire. That’s rifle fire, a whole lot of it.
Tiny black figures darted through the shadows, barely discernable from where I sat, several hundred feet up. I couldn’t see much, but some were definitely running away, the streaks of yellow gunfire chasing them. A few dark gray vehicles rumbled down one of the gravel roads, and sprayed fire into the houses as it went. They were fighting, I realized, the people in the trucks and the locals. It was horrific, like something out of war-torn Afghanistan, but worse.
Then, I caught a glimpse of the others.
They didn’t move like the rest, who either fled from the dark vehicles, or fired back from behind cover. These skinny figures loped along with haphazard gaits, many running on all fours like animals, swarming from the trees by the dozens. They threw themselves into the gales of bullets without flinching, attacking anyone within range, and something about the way they moved, so fluid, so fearless, made my heart skip a beat.
What is that?
“Echo Four Actual to unknown caller, please respond, over.”
Choking back a cry of shock, I fumbled at the control panel with clumsy fingers, the man’s voice sharp and stern. I hadn’t realized that I’d let go of the talking button and clicked it down again. “Hello? Hello, this is Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot out of Pittsburgh, over.”
An excruciating moment passed, and I continued to zoom over the trees, the fires falling away behind me as more silent forest took over.
“Roger that Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, we read you loud and clear. Please identify yourself and any passengers or cargo you might be carrying, over.”
Swallowing hard, I eyed the treetops, which looked much closer than they should have been. How far had I descended? “Echo Four Actual, my name is Christopher Dekker, and I am alone. I’m a charter flight from PA, carrying medical equipment for OSU in Columbus. My controls have been damaged, and I am unable to safely carry on due to the storm. Requesting permission to land, over.”
I watched the landscape slide by underneath me, once catching sight of what looked like a little white church surrounded by smaller huts, dozens of figures in the yard staring up at me as I flew over a towering ridgeline.
“Solid copy on that Douglass Three-One-Four-Foxtrot. Be advised, your transponder shows you to be inside a restricted zone. Please cease all radio traffic, reduce your speed, climb to 3,000 feet and proceed north. We’ll talk you in from there. How copy, over?”
My heart jumped, and I let out a sigh of relief. “Roger that Echo Four Actual, my altimeter is down, but I’ll do my best to eyeball the altitude, over.”
With that, I pulled the collective upward, and tried my best to gauge how far I was by eyesight in the gathering night, rain still coming down all around me. This had to be some kind of disaster or riot, I decided. After all, the voice over the radio sounded like military, and those vehicles seemed to have heavy weapons. Maybe there was some kind of unrest going on here that I hadn’t heard about yet?
Kind of weird for it to happen in rural areas though. Spoiled college kids I get, but never saw farmers get so worked up before. They usually love the military.
Something moved in the corner of my eye, and I turned out of reflex.
My mouth fell open, and I froze, unable to scream.
In the sky beside me, a huge shadow glided along, and its leathery wings effortlessly carved through the gloom, flapping only on occasion to keep it aloft. It was too dark for me to see what color it was, but from the way it moved, I knew it wasn’t another helicopter. No, this thing was alive, easily the size of a small plane, and more than twice the length of my little McDonald Douglass. A long tail trailed behind it, and bore a distinct arrow-shaped snout, with twig-like spines fanned out around the back of its head. Whatever legs it had were drawn up under it like a bird, yet its skin appeared rough and knobby, almost resembling tree bark. Without pause, the gigantic bat-winged entity flew along beside me, as if my presence was on par with an annoying fly buzzing about its head.
Gripping the microphone switch so tight, I thought I’d crack the plastic, I whispered into my headset, forgetting all radio protocol. “T-There’s something up here.”
Static crackled.
“Douglas Three-One-Four-Foxtrot, say again your last, you’re coming in weak and unreadable, over.”
“There’s something up here.” I snarled into the headset, still glued to the controls of the helicopter, afraid to deviate even an inch from my course in case the monstrosity decided to turn on me. “A freaking huge thing, right beside me. I swear, it looks like a bat or . . . I don’t know.”
“Calm down.” The man on the other end of the radio broke his rigorous discipline as well, his voice deep, but level. “It won’t attack if you don’t move too fast. Slowly ease away from it and follow that course until you’re out of sight.”
I didn’t have time to think about how wrong that sounded, how the man’s strict tone had changed to one of knowledge, how he hadn’t been the least surprised by what I’d said. Instead, I slowly turned the helicopter away from the huge menace and edged the speed higher in tiny increments.
As soon as I was roughly two football fields away, I let myself relax, and clicked the mic switch. “It’s not following.”
“You’re sure?”
Eyeing the huge flapping wings, I nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “Yeah, I’m well clear.”
“Good. Thank you, Mr. Dekker.”
Then, the radio went dead.
Something in my chest dropped, a weight that made my stomach roil. This wasn’t right, none of it. Who was that man? Why did he know about the thing I’d just seen? What was I supposed to—
A flash of light exploded from the trees to my right and shot into the air with a long finger of smoke.
What the . . .
On instinct, I jerked the cyclic stick to one side, and the helicopter swung to avoid the rocket.
Boom.
My world shook, metal screeched, and a dozen alarms began to go off inside the cockpit in a cacophony of beeps and sirens. Orange and red flames lit up the night sky just behind me, and the horizon started to spin wildly outside. Heat gushed from the cockpit door, and I smelled the greasy stench of burning oil. The safety belts dug into my shoulders, and with a final slip, the radio headset ripped free from my scalp.
I’m hit.
Desperate, I yanked on the controls, fought the bird even as she spun toward the ground in a wreath of flames, the inky black trees hurtling up to meet me. The helicopter went into full auto-rotation, the sky blurring past outside, and the alarms blared in a screech of doom. Panic slammed through my temples, I screamed at the top of my lungs, and for one brief second, my eyes locked on the little black Garmin still perched atop my control panel.
Its screen stopped twitching and settled on a map of the mysterious Barron County, with a little red arrow at the center of the screen, a few words popping up underneath it.
You are here.
Trees stabbed up into the sky, the belts crushed at my torso, glass shattered all around me, and the world went dark.
Copper, thick, warm, and tangy.
It filled my mouth, stank metallic in my nose, clogged my throat, choking me. In the murkiness, I fought for a surface, for a way out, blind and numb in the dark.
This way, kleineun.
My ouma’s voice echoed from somewhere in the shadows.
This way.
Both eyes flew open, and I gagged, spitting out a stream of red.
Pain throbbed in my ribs, and a heavy pressure sent a tingling numbness through my shoulders. Blood roared inside my temples, and stars danced before my eyes with a dizzying array. Humid night air kissed my skin, and something sticky coated my face, neck, and arms that hung straight up toward the ceiling.
Wait. Not up. Down.
I blinked at the wrinkled, torn ceiling of the cockpit, the glass all gone, the gray aluminum shredded like tissue paper. Just outside the broken windows, thick Appalachian bluegrass and stemmy underbrush swished in a feeble breeze, backlit by flashes of lightning from the thunderstorm overhead. Green and brown leaves covered everything in a wet carpet of triangles, and somewhere nearby, a cricket chirped.
Turning my head from side to side, I realized that I hung upside down inside the ruined helicopter, the top half burrowed into the mud. I could hear the hissing and crackling of flames, the pattering of rain falling on the hot aluminum, and the smaller brush fires around the downed aircraft sizzling out in the damp long grass. Charred steel and burning oil tainted the air, almost as strong as the metallic, coppery stench in my aching nose.
They shot me down. That military dude shot me out of the sky.
It didn’t make sense. I’d followed their orders, done everything they’d said, and yet the instant I veered safely away from whatever that thing in the sky had been, they’d fired, not at it, but at me.
Looking down (or rather, up) at my chest, I sucked in a gasp, which was harder to do that before.
The navy-blue shirt stuck to my torso with several big splotches of dark, rusty red. Most were clean slashes, but two held bits of glass sticking out of them, one alarmingly bigger than the other. They dripped cherry red blood onto my upturned face, and a wave of nausea hit me.
I gotta get down.
I flexed my arms to try and work some feeling back into them, praying nothing was broken. Half-numb from hanging so long, I palmed along my aching body until I felt the buckled for the seat belts.
“Okay.” I hissed between gritted teeth, in an effort to stave off my panic. “You can do this. Just hold on tight. Nice and tight. Here we go . . .”
Click.
Everything seemed to lurch, and I slid off the seat to plummet towards the muck-filled hole in the cockpit ceiling. My fingers were slick with blood and slipped over the smooth faux-leather pilot’s seat with ease. The shoulder belt snagged on the bits of glass that lay just under the left lowest rib, and a flare of white-hot pain ripped through me.
Wham.
I screamed, my right knee caught the edge of the aluminum ceiling, and both hands dove into a mound of leaf-covered glass shards on the opposite side of the hole. My head swam, being right-side-up again enough to make shadows gnaw at the corner of my eyes.
Forcing myself to breath slowly, I fought the urge to faint and slid back to sit on the smooth ceiling. I turned my hands over to see half a dozen bits of clear glass burrowed into my skin like greedy parasites, red blood weeping around the new cuts.
“Screw you.” I spat at the rubbish with angry tears in my eyes. “Screw you, screw you, screw you.”
The shards came out easy enough, and the cuts weren’t that deep, but that wasn’t what worried me. On my chest, the single piece of cockpit glass that remined was almost as big as my palm, and it really hurt. Just touching it felt like self-inflicted torture, but I knew it had to come out sooner or later.
Please don’t nick a vein.
Wiping my hands dry on my jeans, I gripped the shard with both hands, and jerked.
Fire roared over my ribs, and hot blood tickled my already grimy pale skin. I clapped a hand over the wound, pressing down hard, and grunted out a string of hateful expletives that my ouma would have slapped me for.
Lying on my back, I stared around me at the messy cargo compartment of the MD-902. Most of the medical supplies had been in cardboard boxes strapped down with heavy nylon tow-straps, but several cases had ruptured with the force of the impact, spraying bandages, syringes, and pill bottles all over the cluttered interior. Orange flames chewed at the crate furthest to the rear, the tail section long gone, but the foremost part of the hold was intact. Easily a million-dollar mess, it would have made me faint on any other trip, but today it was a godsend.
Half-blind in the darkness, I crawled along with only the firelight and lightning bolts to guide me, my right knee aching. Like a crippled raccoon, I collected things as I went, conscious of the two pallets of intact supplies weighing right over my head. I’d taken several different first-aid courses with some hunting buddies of mine, and the mental reflexes kicked in to help soothe my frazzled mind.
Check for bleeds, stop the worst, then move on.
Aside from my battered chest and stomach, the rest of me remained mostly unharmed. I had nasty bruises from the seatbelts, my right knee swelled, my nose slightly crooked and crusted in blood, but otherwise I was intact. Dowsing every scratch and cut with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol I found, I used butterfly closures on the smaller lacerations that peppered my skin. I wrapped soft white gauze over my abused palms and probed at the big cut where the last shard had been, only stopping when I was sure there were no pieces of glass wedged inside my flesh.
“Not too bad.” I grunted to myself, trying to sound impassive like a doctor might. “Rib must have stopped it. Gonna need stitches though. That’ll be fun.”
Pawing through the broken cases, I couldn’t find any suture chord, but just as I was about to give up, I noticed a small box that read ‘medical skin stapler’.
Bingo.
I tore the small white plastic stapler free from its packaging and eyeballed the device. I’d never done this before, only seen it in movies, and even though the cut in my skin hurt, I wondered if this wouldn’t be worse.
You’ve gotta do it. That bleeding needs to stop. Besides, no one’s coming to rescue you, not with those rocket-launching psychos out there.
Taking a deep breath, I pinched the skin around the gash together, and pressed the mouth of the stapler to it.
Click.
A sharp sting, like that of a needle bit at the skin, but it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as the cut itself. I worked my way across the two-inch laceration and gave out a sigh of relief when it was done.
“Not going to bleed to death today.” I daubed ointment around the staples before winding more bandages over the wound.
Popping a few low-grade painkillers that tumbled from the cargo, I crawled wriggled through the nearest shattered window into the wet grass.
Raindrops kissed my face, clean and cool on my sweaty skin. Despite the thick cloud cover, there was enough constant lightning strikes within the storm to let me get glimpses of the world around me. My helicopter lay on its back, the blades snapped like pencils, with bits and pieces of it burning in chunks all around the small break in the trees. Chest-high scrub brush grew all around the low-lying ground, with pockets of standing water in places. My ears still rang from the impact of the crash, but I could start to pick up more crickets, frogs, and even some nocturnal birds singing into the darkness, like they didn’t notice the huge the hulk of flaming metal that had fallen from the sky. Overhead, the thunder rumbled onward, the feeble wind whistling, and there were other flashes on the horizon, orange and red ones, with crackles that didn’t sound quite like lightning.
The guns. They’re still fighting.
Instinctively, I pulled out my cellphone, and tapped the screen.
It fluttered to life, but no matter how I tried, I couldn’t get through to anyone, not even with the emergency function designed to work around having no service. The complicated wonder of our modern world was little better than a glorified paperweight.
Stunned, I sat down with my back to the helicopter and rested my head against the aluminum skin of the craft. How I’d gone from a regular medical supply run to being marooned in this hellish parody of rural America, I didn’t know, but one thig was certain; I needed a plan. Whoever fired the missile could have already contacted my charter company and made up some excuse to keep them from coming to look for me. No one else knew I was here, and even though I now had six staples holding the worst of my injuries shut, I knew I needed proper medical attention. If I wanted to live, I’d have to rescue myself.
My bag. I need to get my go-bag, grab some gear and then . . . head somewhere else.
It took me a while to gather my green canvas paratrooper bag from its place behind the pilot’s seat and fill it with whatever supplies I could scrounge. My knee didn’t seem to be broken, but man did it hurt, and I dreaded the thought of walking on it for miles on end. I focused instead on inventorying my gear and trying to come up with a halfway intelligent plan of action.
I had a stainless-steel canteen with one of those detachable cups on the bottom, a little fishing kit, some duct tape, a lighter, a black LED flashlight with three spare batteries, a few tattered road maps with a compass, a spare pair of socks, medical supplies from the cargo, and a simple forest green plastic rain poncho. I also managed to unearth a functioning digital camcorder my ouma had gotten me for Christmas a few years back, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to do any filming in such a miserable state. Lastly, since it was a private supply run from a warehouse area near Pittsburgh to a direct hospital pad in Ohio, I’d been able to bring my K-Bar, a sturdy, and brutally simple knife designed for the Marine Corps that I used every time I went camping. It was pitiful in comparison to the rifle I wished I had with me, but that didn’t matter now. I had what I had, and I doubted my trusty Armalite would have alleviated my sore knee anyway.
Clicking on my flashlight, I huddled with the poncho around my shoulders inside the wreck of the chopper and peered at the dusty roadmaps. A small part of me hoped that a solution would jump out from the faded paper, but none came. These were all maps of western PA and eastern Ohio. None of them had a Barron County on them anywhere.
The man on the radio said to head north, right before they shot me down. That means they must be camped out to the north of here. South had that convoy and those burning houses, so that’s a no-go. Maybe I can backtrack eastward the way I came.
As if on cue, a soft pop echoed from over the eastern horizon, and I craned to look out the helicopter window, spotting more man-made flashes over the tree tops.
“Great.” I hissed between clenched teeth, aware of how the temperature dipped to a chilly 60 degrees, and how despite the conditions, my stomach had begun to growl. “Not going that way, are we? Westward it is.”
Walking away from my poor 902 proved to be harder than I’d anticipated. Despite the glass, the fizzling fires, and the darkness, it still held a familiar, human essence to it. Sitting inside it made me feel secure, safe, even calm about the situation. In any other circumstance, I would have just stayed with the downed aircraft to wait for help, but I knew the men who shot me down would likely find my crash site, and I didn’t want to be around when they did.
Unlike much of central and western Ohio, southeastern Ohio is hilly, brushy, and clogged with thick forests. Thorns snagged at my thin poncho and sliced at my pant legs. My knee throbbed, every step a form of self-inflicted torture. The rain never stopped, a steady drizzle from above just cold enough to be problematic as time went on, making me shiver. Mud slid under my tennis shoes, and every tree looked ten times bigger in the flickering beam of my cheap flashlight. Icy fear prickled at the back of my neck at some of the sounds that greeted me through the gloom. I’d been camping loads of times, both in Pennsylvania and elsewhere, but these noises were something otherworldly to me.
Strange howls, screeches, and calls permeated the rain-soaked sky, some almost roars, while others bordered on human in their intonation. The more I walked, the softer the distant gunfire became, and the more prevalent the odd sounds, until the shadows seemed to fill with them. I didn’t dare turn off my flashlight, or I’d been completely blind in the dark, but a little voice in the back of my head screamed that I was too visible, crunching through the gloomy forest with my long beam of light stabbing into the abyss. It felt as though a million eyes were on me, studying me, hunting me from the surrounding brush, and I bitterly recalled how much I’d loved the old Survivor Man TV series as a kid.
Not so fun being out in the woods at night. Especially alone.
A twig snapped somewhere behind me, and I whirled on the spot, one trembling hand resting on the hilt of my K-Bar.
Nothing. Nothing but trees, bushes, and rain dripping down in the darkness.
“This is stupid.” I whispered to myself to keep my nerves in check as I slowly spun on the spot. “I should have went eastward anyway. God knows how long I’m going to have to—”
Creak.
A groan of metal-on-metal echoed from somewhere to my right, and I spun to face it, yanking the knife on my belt free from its scabbard. It felt so small and useless in my hand, and I choked down a wave of nauseas fear.
Ka-whump. Creak. K-whump. Creak.
Underbrush cracked and crunched, a few smaller saplings thrashed, and from deep within the gloom, two yellow orbs flared to life. They poked through the mist in the trees, forming into slender fingers of golden light that swept back and forth in the dark.
The soldiers . . . they must be looking for me.
I swallowed hard and turned to slink away.
Ice jammed through my blood, and I froze on the spot, biting my tongue to stop the scream.
It stood not yards away, a huge form that towered a good twelve feet tall in the swirling shadows. Unpolished chrome blended with flash-rusted spots in the faded red paint, and grime-smeared glass shone with dull hues in the flashes of lightning. Where the wheels should have been, the rounded steel axels curved like some enormous hand had bent them, and the tires lay face-down on the muddy ground like big round feet, their hubcaps buried in the dirt. Dents, scrapes, and chips covered the battered thing, and its crooked little radio antenna pointed straight up from the old metal fender like a mast. I could barely make out the mud-coated VW on the rounded hood, and my mind reeled in shock.
Is . . . is that a car?
Both yellow headlights bathed me in a circle of bright, blinding light, and neither I nor the strange vehicle moved.
Seconds ticked by, the screech-thumping in the background only growing closer. I realized that I couldn’t hear any engine noises and had yet to see any soldiers or guns pointed my way. This car looked old, really old, like one of those classic Volkswagen Beetles that collectors fought over at auctions. Try as I might, I couldn’t see a driver inside the murky, mold-smeared windows.
Because there wasn’t one.
Lightning arched across the sky overhead, and the car standing in front of me blinked.
Its headlights slid shut, as if little metal shades had crawled over the bulbs for a moment and flicked open again. Something about that movement was so primal, so real, so lifelike, that every ounce of self-control I had melted in an instant.
Cursing under my breath, I lunged into the shrubs, and the world erupted around me.
Under my shoes, the ground shook, and the car surged after me in a cacophony of ka-thumps that made my already racing heart skip several beats. A weather-beaten brown tow truck from the 50’s charged through the thorns to my left, it’s headlights ablaze, and a dilapidated yellow school bus rose from its hiding place in the weeds to stand tall on four down-turned axel-legs. They all flicked their headlights on like giants waking from their slumber, and as I dodged past them, they each blared their horn into the night in alarm.
My breaths came short and tight, my knee burned, and I crashed through thorns and briars without thought to how badly I was getting cut up.
The cheap poncho tore, and I ripped it away as it caught on a tree branch.
A purple 70’s Mustang shook off its blanket of creeping vines and bounded from a stand of trees just ahead, forcing me to swerve to avoid being run over, my adrenaline at all-time highs.
This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.
Slipping and sliding, I pushed through a stand of multiflora rose, and stumbled out into a flat, dark expanse.
I almost skidded to a stop.
What had once been a rather large field stood no taller than my shoestrings, the grass charred, and burnt. The storm above illuminated huge pieces of wreckage that lay scattered over the nearly 40-acre plot, and I could just make out the fire-blackened hulk of a fuselage resting a hundred yards away. The plane had been brought down a while ago it seemed, as there weren’t any flames left burning, and I threw myself toward it in frenzied desperation.
Burned grass and greasy brown topsoil slushed underfoot, and I could hear the squelching of the cars pursing me. Rain soaked me to the bone, and my lungs ached from sucking down the damp night air. A painful stich crept into my side, and I cursed myself for not putting in more time for cardio at the gym.
Something caught my left shoelace, and I hurtled to the ground, tasting mud and blood in between my teeth.
They’ve got me now.
I clawed at the mud, rolled, and watched a tire slam down mere inches from where my head had been. The Mustang loomed over me and jostled for position with the red Volkswagen and brown tow truck, the school bus still a few yards behind them. They couldn’t seem to decide who would get the pleasure of stomping me to death, and like a herd of stampeding wildebeest, they locked bumpers in an epic shoving match.
On all fours, I scampered out from under the sparring brutes, and dashed for the crumpled airplane, a white-painted DC-3 that looked like it had been cut in half by a gargantuan knife blade. I passed a snapped wing section, the oily remains of a turbo-prop engine, and a mutilated wheel from the landing gear. Climbing over a heap of mud, I squeezed into the back of the ruined flight cabin and dropped down into the dark cargo hold.
Wham.
No sooner had my sneakers hit the cold metal floor, and the entire plane rocked from the impact of something heavy ramming it just outside. I tumbled to my knees, screaming in pain as, once again, I managed to bash the sore one off a bracket in the wall.
My hand smeared in something gooey, and I scrabbled for my flashlight.
It clicked on, a wavering ball of white light in the pitch darkness, and I fought the urge to gag. “Oh man . . .”
Three people, or what was left of them, lay strewn over the narrow cargo area. Claret red blood coated the walls, caked on the floor, and clotted under my mud-spattered shoes. Bits of flesh and viscera were stuck to everything, and tatters of cloth hung from exposed sections of broken bone. An eerie set of bloody handprints adorned the walls, and the only reason I could tell it had been three people were the shoes; all of them bore anklebones sticking out above blood-soaked socks. It smelled sickly sweet, a strange, nauseas odor that crept into my nose and settled on the back of my tongue like an alien parasite.
Something glinted in the beam of my flashlight, and my pulse quickened as I pried the object loose from the severed arm that still clung to it.
“Hail Mary full of Grace.” I would have grinned if it weren’t for the fact that the plane continued to buck and roll under the assault from the cars outside.
The pistol looked old, but well-maintained, aside from the light coating of dark blood that stained its round wooden handle. It felt heavy, but good in my hand, and I turned it over to read the words, Waffenfabrik Mauser stenciled into the frame, with a large red 9 carved into the grip. For some reason, it vaguely reminded me of the blasters from Star Wars.
I fumbled with a little switch that looked like a safety on the back of the gun and stumbled toward a gap in the plane’s dented fuselage to aim out at the surrounding headlights.
Bang.
The old gun bucked reliably in my hand, its long barrel spitting a little jet of flame into the night. I had no idea if I hit anything, but the attacking cars recoiled, their horns blaring in confusion.
They turned, and scuttled for the tree line as fast as their mechanical legs could go, the entire ordeal over as fast as it had begun.
Did I do that?
Perplexed, I stared down at the pistol in my hand.
Whoosh.
A large, inky black shadow glided down from the clouds, and the yellow school bus moved too slow to react in time.
With a crash, the kicking nightmarish vehicle was thrown onto its side, spraying glass and chrome trim across the muddy field. Its electro-synth horn blared with wails of mechanical agony, as two huge talon-like feet clamped down on it, and the enormous head of the flying creature lowered to rip open its engine compartment.
The horn cut out, and the enormous flying entity jerked its head back to gulp down a mass of what looked like sticky black vines from the interior of the shattered bus.
At this range, I could see now that the flying creature bore two legs and had its wings half-tucked like a vulture that had descended to feed on roadkill. Its head turned slightly, and in the glow of another lightning bolt, my jaw went slack at the realization of what it was.
A tree trunk. It’s a rotted tree trunk.
I couldn’t tell where the reptilian beast began, and where the organic tree components ended, the upper part of the head shaped like a log, while the lower jaw resembled something out of a dinosaur movie. Its skin looked identical to the outside of a shagbark hickory but flexed with a supple featheriness that denoted something closer to skin. Sharp branch-like spines ranged down its back, and out to the end of its tail, which bore a massive round club shaped like a diseased tree-knot. Crouched on both hind legs, it braced the hooked ends of its folded wings against the ground like a bat, towering higher than a semi-truck. Under the folds of its armored head, a bulging pair of chameleon-like eyes constantly spun in their sockets, probing the dark for threats while it ate.
One black pupil locked onto the window I peered through, and my heart stopped.
The beast regarded me for a moment, with a curious, sideways sniff.
With a proud, contemptful head-toss, the shadow from the sky parted rows of razor-sharp teeth to let out a roar that shook the earth beneath my feet. It was the triumphant war cry of a creature that sat at the very top of the food chain, one that felt no threat from the fragile two-legged beings that walked the earth all around it. It hunted whenever it wanted, ate whatever it wanted, and flew wherever it wanted. It didn’t need to rip the plane apart to devour me.
Like my hunter-gatherer ancestors from thousands of years ago, I wasn’t even worth the energy it would take to pounce.
I’m hiding in the remains of the cockpit now, which is half-buried under the mud of the field, enough to shield the light from my screen so that thing doesn’t see it. My service only now came back, and it’s been over an hour since the winged beast started in on the dead bus. I don’t know when, or how I’m going to get out of here. I don’t know when anyone will even see this post, or if it will upload at all. My phone battery is almost dead, and at this point, I’m probably going to have to sleep among the corpses until daylight comes.
A dead man sleeping amongst friends.
If you live in the Noble County area in southeastern Ohio, be careful where you drive, fly, and boat. I don’t know if it’s possible to stumble into this strange place by ground, but if so, then these things are definitely headed your way.
If that happens . . . pray that they don’t find you.

Hi, for context ages will not be shared just know I am a former sophomore going into junior year and my sister is a upcoming freshman.
As the title stated I am so sick of my deadbeat mom and entitled brat of a sister, today I woke up and went to say hi to my aunt(my should be legal guardian) and saw my sister wasn’t in the room so I asked my aunt where she was and found out that my mom was told that me and my aunt were asleep and she took it upon herself to pick up my sister and take her out god knows where. Now for context and background information my mother does not live with me and my aunt or dad, she moved out back in the middle of 2022 because she believed my aunt and dad were targeting and bullying her for being a deadbeat mother and god forbid she help my aunt pay bills. Now for those who probably wondering why I’m posting this is because I need opinions to help convince my aunt to kick my sister out since she tells my mother everything that happens in the house.
Now my sister is entitled, she gets what she wants and all the new electronics she finds amazing, for example she got an animal crossing gen 1 switch for Christmas in 2019 and didn’t use it for three years until I started using the joycons for my switch since my control didn’t have that rubbery part on the levers and I have sensory issues to plastic touching my fingers when I’m playing video games.
Now back to the present, my mother had picked up my sister to take her out, I don’t care if she took her out it’s the fact that my sister didn’t tell my aunt that my mother was planning to take my sister out. My sister had told my mom that me and my aunt were asleep and my mom tends to do things with my sister more when my dad is out of the house, my aunt was mad and upset when she found out, makes sense. My mother was always stingy with giving my aunt money to pay bills or to even buy me clothes or anything I need but once my sister barks and commands my mom uses a lot of money on her just because she’s bigger, meaning she’s on the heavier side and she’s autistic.
My aunt already plans to leave money and jewelry to me and my sister when she dies but now plans to give only me and my dad everything since me and her believe that my sister would only share money with my druggie and drunkie of a mother, I know most of you are going to comment saying that I shouldn’t talk badly about my mother, but here’s some context that y’all should know. After my mother gave birth to me back in 2007, it only took her a week a week of having me out of the hospital for her to realize that she didn’t want to take care of a baby and don’t me basically on my aunt Uncle and Dad basically anyone who would take care of me instead of her she was asleep 95% of my childhood because she didn’t want to be a mother more of a friend a friend who dresses provocatively, and always has her boobs or thighs flashing, because she feels like she should, and not cover up her body, I was always embarrassed for her to be my mother because she would dress provocatively at school events and I would be embarrassed because my friends would tease me about it and teachers would make snide remarks about me and dressing like that when I’m older, I do dress like that but I only dress like that when I’m out with friends other times I dress in jeans, a plaid shirt or jacket and a band shirt basically 80s look. my mother never was really there for me more in there for my sister and she would never get me things I need just recently back in let’s say January my aunt had took me to an eye doctor and I got prescribed contacts so my aunt need a money so she can pay off the 40 bucks that my aunt had to pay to give me my contacts every three months.
My mother caused a lot of trauma through my life and doesn’t commit it or own up to her mistakes but it says that it was my dad‘s fault for causing that trauma. He did cheat on her back in 2008 I believe or 2007 hence bringing in my half brothers . And my dad I guess was just sick of my mother.
Now, my sister acts like my mothers in so many ways doesn’t do dishes doesn’t do basic chores complains when looking after the dogs the planes are doing anything has horrible hygiene and always says that she might take over my room since I do a horrible job and taking care of it when she sleeps in my aunts room and refuses to do what I did back in 2019 and split it one corner of the room to be a little tiny corner where I can have a bed a desk and a TV so I can be comfortable more when I get my own room silly I know but it worked for me. I have told my aunt that she needs to take my sister out the wheel because my sister does not appreciate anything her or my dad do for her for example, my aunt spend so much money on Funko pops and electronics for my sister every Christmas, and she only uses one thing or causes a mess. What’s worse is not my grandmother’s poor jewelry box is being wasted and being destroyed because my sister has constant cups on it and the residue leaves markings on the wood. It was my grandmothers jewelry box and I cherish it every moment of my life. It sucks that she’s gone , but I feel like I deserve the jury box because I take better care of my jewelry while my sister does not even like jewelry
I want to convince my aunt to kick out my sister, so my sister can understand the struggles and actual proof that my mother is a deadbeat and that she has no where near a good person nor the good enough mother to spend basic money for food and clothing I am just so sick and tired of my mother and my sister . Please separate uses of Reddit help me convince and point out reasons to kick out my sister so she can live with my mother since she appreciates my mother more than my aunt and father.

Sir David
Far across the Capital city from the impromptu Sarkin wedding feast Sir David and Ariane were walking around the Imperial district, hand in hand, lazily enjoying the light breeze and the warm sun as they played tourist.
Sir David couldn't help but glance over at Ariane constantly, both to enjoy her, and to listen to her next piece of interesting information.
One place he had some mutual hobbies with Ariane was in history, and Ariane had devoured human history and mythology by the truck load once she'd gotten access to the Tear's internal comm net. Her reading speed and retention rate was truly something you had to see to believe.
She'd also proved she was quite crafty in the arts and crafts sense. After she'd found out about the minotaur of Greek myth, she'd set herself to work designing some new outfits that mixes ancient Greek and traditional Agela fashion, then partnered with Mama-san the Pavorus tailor aboard the Tear to produce them.
The result in this particular case was a stunning white dress that was just sheer enough in some places to be more than a little distracting, while not being at all lewd or erotic. Or anything but conservative by galactic standards.
Sure, with a slit in the skirt to her upper mid thigh, and some actual cleavage, she was showing off more skin than an Apuk girl might on average, but anything more than a micro bikini could be considered 'conservative' by galactic standards. Paired with her usual concealed shifter belt which showed off her waist and the sheer intensity of her curves in a delightfully subtle way, she'd then left her bountiful golden hair curly and put it up with a pair of pins.
The total effect between the colors of her body, her rich caramel skin, the blue of her eyes, her shining golden hair, and the various whites and creams of her not quite toga made her look the part of an actual goddess of Greek myth. Ari was an absolute gem of a woman, and was just as beautiful in sweat pants as she was all done up... but Sir David certainly appreciated the results when Ariane took the time to get all gussied up.
It was only due to David's sheer force of will and decades of self discipline that he wasn't all over her like a teenage boy on his prom date to use an American idiom. The temptation alone was... intense. The desire was strong.
Yet.
Sir David wanted to hold back. For his own sake. For Ariane's sake. He wanted to build a bond in more than mutual physical desire... and he had to remember what being... touched... was like. How to touch. How to accomplish the physical parts of being a lover.
He could hear Mary scolding him for ignoring her when she'd told him to seek out someone else to help keep his life fulfilled and happy... letting what were once well developed skills in how to be a partner, how to be a lover, how to be a friend in a context outside the military, atrophy deeply. Then again, could Mary have known just how badly her death was going to hurt him? She'd have likely scolded him for that too, but still. He just couldn't give the old girl up... and with Ariane around to stand next to the ghostly love of his life, and not in place of... well. Maybe Mary would forgive him for waiting just a little bit longer to find the right woman.
That more women could quite easily follow was... something that was becoming somewhat intriguing to David. There was, after all, near limitless potential in the galaxy.
Perhaps he was talking to Jerry too much about such things in the Ward Room after the female officers had mostly left for the evening, but the man made a persuasive, if somewhat self-serving argument in the name of plural marriage in the galaxy. Sir David himself didn't have a religious or moral objection to such things, and considering he already had more or less agreed with his... girlfriend for lack of a better term. Fiancée perhaps. That she would be his second wife per galactic terms, to respect the mother of his first children made the question of a third or fourth wife seem... much easier than simply considering a second. If the right woman showed up... why not?
"Oh! David! Look!"
Before David can be completely shaken from his thoughts he's been dragged through an ornate gate set into a stone wall into a garden. David's eyes wander the place and automatically map out the details. They're just passed through a stone wall onto a platform resting on what appeared to mostly be a natural hill, with a small set of steps leading down to the actual ground level and the stone path that ran through the grass.
The garden itself is quite large, and beautifully crafted with paths, not just of stone but within the plants themselves winding naturally through the stunning blooms and leading towards what appeared to be an altar at one end of the garden and a large set of stairs at the other.
The stairs lead up to a balcony, over which loomed a fortified building some distance behind it. David recognized it as an old fort, in a style endemic to older Apuk architecture that David had seen a few times with Ariane so far this morning while touring the Imperial district.
David makes his second sweep of the area, now looking for even more fine details this time around. Looking up a bit higher finds ten statues lining the area, each paying homage to a larger statue of a woman in armor behind the altar.
She was posed with a warblade that was nearly as long as she was tall, and she appeared to have been very tall in life, regardless of how the sculptor had scaled her up. Still, the detail in the sculpture was remarkable. The warrior woman's smile warmed the garden that was clearly a memorial like she was standing there with them that moment, no matter how long it had been since her death.
Ariane sighs with pleasure at both the exquisite sculptures around them, but also the skillful display of horticulture, taking a brief moment to sniff a vibrant blue bloom before pulling up her guide book.
"Let's see... Yes, this is the Memorial Garden of the First Battle Princess. Hmm. Some warning in the Apuk language I can't read, where's the... ah! Here we are!"
Ariane grins at her success at finding what she was looking for and starts to read the contents of the page to David.
"Princess Mira'Tok Crownborn was the title that she ended her life under many thousands of Centris standard years ago at the dawn of pre-space flight modern Apuk history. Mira'Tok was the first to receive a crown directly from the hand of the woman who would become the first Empress of Serbow, and is the predecessor of every battle princess to ever wear a crown."
The Agela woman's eyes glimmer as she continues to read, clearly excited by both the history and the craftsmanship around them.
"The statues displayed around her are her ten companions, her battle sisters... and there's a twelfth statue behind her, of the Sorcerer Dus'Kvun, her husband. Not to deemphasize him, but rather their display rotates with the Princess being displayed forward by day, and her husband by night when bioluminescent plants from the dark forest naturally light the garden up! Seems the statues automatically rotate into their different positions after sunset and at dawn. The guide suggests this was a commentary on the two halves of martial supremacy on Serbow... and a more traditional depiction of both male and female."
David arches an eyebrow and leans over to read over Ariane's shoulder a bit. "Really, she was the first? Interesting... How old is the statue then? It's incredible. Almost like she's about to start laughing and tell us a story about her adventures."
Ariane nods. "She was famous for doing just that. This garden is a few thousand years old, commissioned early in the current Imperial family's reign. Mira'Tok was named a... it's hard to pronounce it, so I'll just translate, a sword saint. So like the kensei from Japan on Earth that we discussed the other day. So Mira'Tok is a religious figure as well as a historical and martial figure. So this memorial garden was dedicated as an official war shrine of the Apuk Imperial military. What's the mean though?"
Ariane flicks through a few more screens, focused entirely on learning something new about the place they'd found themselves in.
"Here we go! As an Imperial War Shrine, the garden of the mausoleum plays host to a variety of ceremonies annually including the Empress praying for the Imperial military, officers being commissioned or promoted, and senior enlisted swearing fresh oaths of enlistment. To be offered or granted permission to swear your oaths in the garden is a significant honor and marks out either a highly distinguished, or extremely loyal individual with many years or service... or the type of fresh face who's on the fast track to bigger and better things. It's not automatic even for battle princesses who take up Imperial military service."
Ariane pushes her communicator towards David, pointing to a specific paragraph. "Ooh, look! Apparently it's not uncommon for the Empress to turn up unannounced and receive the oaths of those permitted to make their oaths in Mira'Tok's mausoleum personally."
Sir David raises an eyebrow at that. "Dear God, I don't think her majesty ever surprised anyone to take their oaths of service personally... though she did knight me and award me my Victoria cross personally, as was the standard of the age. To take an oath of service personally like that from her warriors. That's truly special for those Imperial officers and enlisted who are privileged to offer their oaths like that I'm sure. To make oaths of loyalty and service personally to your liege. Ye gods and little fishes, it's right out of a fairy tale!"
"I know! Isn't it great?" Ariane clearly suppresses a squeal, doing her best to remain respectfully calm in this sacred space.
Suddenly however, a concerning thought struck Sir David.
"Say, Ari, are there any issues with us being here as outsiders? This is, as you say, sacred ground."
Ariane puts her nose back in her communicator and reads through a few pages quickly.
"Well it says this shrine isn't considered super popular to visit because it's small and somewhat out of the way, though many warriors make pilgrimage here to entreat Mira'Tok's blessing and invoke her courage, so this part of the war shrine is proudly open to the public. Though offworld visitors are of course asked to be respectful to the gardens and the spirits of the Princess, her husband and her shield sisters. In fact... as a warrior yourself you should be able to access the inner shrine if you'd like. There's apparently some rare artifacts related to Mira'Tok, and there's usually a few Wardens, retired senior members of the Apuk Imperial forces, around who are always happy to chat with a fellow warrior. While they nominally guard the shrine, apparently they also give regular discussions and talks about the history of this place, the Imperial military, and Mira'Tok. It's by appointment only, but they also only need like thirty minutes notice."
David nods, looking around again and admiring some more of the sheer effort that had gone into this beautiful little slice of serenity in the capital.
"Sounds like we should register for one of their talks if they wouldn't mind an audience of two. Heh, registering for a tour from wardens of a tower in the capital city of an Empire. It's so familiar it's almost a touch nostalgic."
David gestures upwards at the tower that was clearly the inner shrine.
"It's just like the Tower of London back home in some ways, right down to the wardens. The Yeoman Warders of the Tower back on Earth are all retired senior enlisted military personnel. Next you'll tell me they keep a local species of black bird here. Still, this other part of the shrine, the inner shrine, I can gain access to it? But you made it sound like you couldn't? Why's that?"
David gazes over at the now blushing Ariane.
"No such luck on the black birds. As to the inner shrine... It. Ah. Access to the inner shrine is limited to warriors and their... well. It says husbands but considering you're the warrior I'm sure they'd make exception for your spouse but we aren't married and I-"
Sir David leans over, cups Ariane's cheek and chastely kisses her on the lips, a mark of affection Ariane eagerly returns with a loving sigh.
"Ooh..."
"Maybe I'm not so worried about that any more. Forgive an old man his foibles my dear... besides. I'd say you're at least my fiancée, and I. Well I don't want to presume, but I'd be. It."
David feels his tongue tangle a bit as he remembers he hadn't expressed a lot of his feelings on this subject to Ariane yet.
"I... Ari. I'd be a fool not to marry you. I think I might have done you a great disservice in not being more clear about that. I ah. Yes. It's. You're to be my wife. If you'll have me of course... Bollocks that came out wrong."
Ari looks back at David, her long lashes fluttering as she gives him a coy smile.
"You're impossible sometimes you know that?"
"I'm unfortunately aware."
"I love that about you. I suspect Mary did too. Yes David. I'm going to be your wife. You're going to be my husband. There's no need to ask, it's set in the stars and has been from the moment we first made eye contact when you came to rescue me. Because for all your desire to take it slow, I've utterly failed to honor your desires and I fall more and more in love with you with every passing minute of every passing day. How can I not? I'm a girl who loves fairy tales after all, and here at last is my gallant knight to carry me away. I do prefer the human style role swap honestly. Much more fun to be carried off on horseback by you instead of carrying you off. Makes me feel all delicate."
The first kiss was nice. The second kiss was like nothing else David had ever experienced in his life apart from kisses with Mary, and in that second kiss he wasn't worried about having to remember how to be a lover to someone anymore.
Ari's lips warmed him from the tips of his ears down to his toes, making him melt just slightly as they embrace among the flowers, which seem to bloom all the more brightly in the face of such a passionate act of mutual affection, turning up to the couple ever so slightly as if they were the sun itself.
Then the spell is broken by a sharp wolf whistle and a leering cackle from nearby.
"Hey sister, care to share some sugar?"
Three well dressed Apuk, with what David recognized as gang markings peeking over their collars or out of their sleeves saunter through the gate, slowly spreading out.
"Told you girls I smelled a man. Cute too... So what's the slice sister, you the first wife?"
"S-Second. I'm his second wife." Ariane stutters for a second but quickly gets more confident in her tone, her powerful body tensing.
One of the toughs, a woman with poorly maintained reddish purple locks, looks at the senior tough, a woman with vibrant green hair that's clearly much better taken care of.
"...Why are you asking? We just want to have a little fun right? Make this trip up to the Imperial district worth it?"
"Yep, and all the better if sister here is willing to share. Might even make some easy credits girlie."
Ariane tenses a bit more, as her cheeks color with what David recognizes as anger. Then he notices Ariane's hand subtly going towards the controls for her shifter belt.
"Did you seriously just ask me to whore my husband out to you dirtbags?"
"Hey now, dirt bag's a mean way to put it!" The gang leader's tone takes on an oily, play acting hurt tone as the three women begin to spread out a bit more. "Might just hurt my feelings, and you know girls, when my feelings are hurt there's just about only one thing that'll really quench the fire it starts in me."
"...Bout a liter of this bitch's blood boss?" Says the redhead again, leering at Ariane as she speaks.
The gang leader's smile gets extra toothy, making her look like she was part Cannidor for a moment.
"Yep, and a couple rounds with old boy over there while she bleeds out on the stone. Hey. Call some more of the girls over, I think this might end up being a grand old time."
First Last

I hardly ever use my physical credit card now and it's great to have one less thing in my pocket. I've started needing to reserve a space for my bicycle on Avanti and found I need to get tickets printed if I do this and I can't use the self-serve without a physical card.
I've found station staff often seem to have an attitude if I ask them to print the tickets. Three things that one person said before giving me the tickets:
"Please use the self-serve to collect tickets next time"
"You're wasting your own time by queuing"
"It says in the small print that you need to bring your card"
Why can't I use contactless as their "ID requirement"?

I was reading an isekai on tapas, webtoons or another similar app and now I can't find it at all.
The concept was a reincarnator finding a missing boy and returning him to his uncle, a Duke, for a reward but the boy gets attached so she stays and she and the uncle fall in love. I think she had brown hair and wore green on the cover? The duke and nephew had black hair and either red or gold eyes.
It was about a girl reincarnated into a novel, and the body she took over was a girl who was loved by her parents and let her do anything she wanted so she had quickly gotten the family into major debt.
The reincarnator remembered that the dukes nephew had been thrown/ran from his parents carriage accident and was living in the local dump so she went out and found him and took him home. He quickly formed an attachment to her and her parents doted on him. The duke was having trouble finding the boy because people would come forward with "the nephew" but had actually put a haieye color spell on the child to get the reward money. He would use anti-magic potions in juice to see if the boy was the real one. The realy boy would have black hair and I think red or gold eyes.
The girl brought the boy to the manor but the last anti-magic potion was broken or they were just out so she was going to take him back home but the uncle told them both to stay for a month until the new shipment.
The boy loves stars and so the girl goes into town and sees a purple star globe and decides to buy it for him. Just as she goes to pick it up the uncle tries to also buy it because he knows the nephew likes stars too. She ends up buying it and takes it to the boy.
The maids think she's still just a gold digger because of the previous body's host, but one day when playing hide and seek she loses the boy and gets scared and crys which changes their minds. The uncle sees a door open to a room he doesn't allow in and when he goes in the boy is playing with the toys in there and you see the whole room is decorated in stars.
After a month the potions arrive and the uncle doesn't want to test him just in case he isn't the nephew. The boy finds the juice and drinks it proving he is the nephew and the girl decides she needs to leave but all 3 of them are sad and she and the boy are crying and the uncle chases her and asks her to stay.
I'd really like to catch up on it but I can't find it anywhere and im terrible at remembering names. Any help would be appreciated, thank you!

Hey Redditors of Banff!
I do see at least two other posts in the last 24 hours about itineraries...so I apologize for adding onto the pile. My husband and I are celebrating our 5th anniversary in a couple of weeks with our first trip to Jasper & Banff. We're very excited and I've been planning for months. This and various other related subreddits have been incredibly useful to our planning, and I just want to be sure I'm not forgetting anything that could throw a major wrench in the works. I tend to get long-winded so I'll try to keep it brief, but a quick analysis of our plans would be super appreciated!
We land in Calgary from California late at night on Tuesday June 13. We have a hotel room in Calgary that night, and will pick up our rental car first thing in the morning.
June 14: Drive to Banff and pick up a few supplies (specific supplies listed at the bottom of post) and up to Jasper, with various short stops along the way including Bow Lake, Mistaya Canyon, Boundary Lake, Athabasca Falls, and Cavell Pond. We realize it is a long day of driving, we're used to that, and will drop stops as needed. Hotel in Jasper reserved.
June 15: A few short hikes and stops including Morro Peak and Medicine Lake, and anything in the area we missed the day before; campsite reserved outside of Jasper.
June 16: A couple longer hikes around Jasper, and a campsite reserved outside of the townsite.
June 17: Hike out of Portal trailhead to Tonquin Valley (backcountry campground reserved)
June 18: Explore Tonquin Valley area (second night at backcountry campground)
June 19: Exit via Portal trailhead, lunch in Jasper, drive to Banff. Hotel in Banff reserved.
June 20: Sunrise at Moraine Lake, tickets booked through Moraine Lake Bus Company. Later, a hike; we have a list of possibilities (will put below itinerary). Hotel reserved.
June 21: Hike from Mt. Shark trailhead; backcountry campground reserved.
June 22: Hike into Assiniboine area; backcountry campground reserved.
June 23: Goin' bougie with a heli ride out to Mt. Shark trailhead. Campground reserved outside of Banff townsite.
June 24: Choosing hike from list of possibilities. Campground reserved.
June 25: Same as 24.
June 26: Hike out from Healy Pass trailhead. Backcountry campground reserved.
June 27: Hike back out. Hotel reserved in Dead Man's Flats.
June 28: Fly back to California
Banff hike possibilities include: Lake Agnes and Plain of Six Glaciers, Rawson Lake to Sarrail Ridge, Mt. Rundle, and Cascade Mountain. Other hike recommendations welcome--I'm bringing all my photography gear and won't say no to more photo-taking options. We can handle longer distances/more strenuous terrain; we live in Yosemite.
I ordered and received our Discovery Pass quite some time ago. I know we need a Kananaskis Conservation Pass for Mt. Shark trailhead, but I didn't seem to be able to buy one without a license plate number, which I don't have because it's a rental car--but I also didn't see anything indicating it's on a quota system, so am I correct in assuming I can purchase it when we arrive?
We also need to pick up bear spray, isobutane, and possibly some backpacking meals; while I know we could probably get these at most any store, we're also gear junkies. So outdoor gear store recommendations, specifically any in Banff townsite, would be sweet.
Other than that...am I forgetting anything?

Where memories fade, love's essence ignites.
A car crash into a pine tree shatters the facade of a once seemingly blissful marriage. Jack's desperate attempts to bring down the tree with a chainsaw leave his wife, Hazel, wondering what has become of their bond. Is he still the same man she fell in love with three decades ago? As Hazel battles her fears, "Journey to the Treetop" invites readers on an emotional ride through the tumultuous landscape of a mind affected by memory loss.
------‐-------------
CABIN ROAD is the gateway to paradise.
But why does this feel like a path to hell?
I smash into a tall pine tree that stands in the middle of the otherwise straight gravel road. I've gone around it hundreds of times before. But now, my fingers are firmly gripped on the steering wheel, disregarding all my commands. Have I become paralyzed?
A potato is wobbling on the dashboard, having obviously leaped out of the potato crates in the back seat. Jack gets out and strides to the front bumper. His lips press into a thin line as he appraises the destruction and cost of fixing it. Nothing should hold him back from swearing. But he maintains his composure, anger simmering just beneath the surface.
The memory of thirty years of marriage fills my mind. I question whether this man has drugged me. A fleeting thought that he might have crashed the car surfaces, but it seems too much of a stretch. I take a deep breath and try to clear my head.In the rear-view mirror, Jack gets an axe from the trunk. He comes and gazes at me from my window, his eyes looking heavy and weary—like two precious pearls inside their oyster-like shells. I straighten and open the window:
“Thank goodness it wasn't worse.”
“I'll chop it down.”
“That’s a pretty big tree, Jack.”
Jack blinks several times.
“I do have a chainsaw...”
“Yes.” I wonder what stories this tree has witnessed during its lifetime. Will we see the marks of our journey on its rings? There’s always something that gets squeezed in tighter, begging to be unraveled.
“I'll drive you to the cabin and grab the chainsaw,” Jack says. “Prepare some coffee while I'm gone.”
Our short passage to the cabin around the bend is like shifting through the fog of memory. I'm in the kitchen. My fingers clench around the coffee tin can and spoon. Bewilderment engulfs my brain. I spot Jack with his saw. He slips around the corner, the curve of his bottom visible through his tight work trousers. I feel anxious about the crash. Did I deliberately hit the tree?
The measuring spoon slips from my hand. It drops onto the floor along with the tin can. I clean up the mess. Could someone drive into a tree on purpose? Accidents do happen after all. It's fascinating to see him take on this role of being so chivalrous. Far away from his academic duties.
As the chainsaw outside whines, I scroll through social media on my phone. People arguing about something or other makes me tired. I pick up a copy of Science magazine from the coffee table and scan through an article titled “Quantum Communication Across Interstellar Space,” authored by Jack. As usual, the details go right over my head. I like to amuse myself with the idea that it speaks about communicating with individuals who have passed away.
Billy's message pops up. He asks for money for a fishing trip with his buddies somewhere in Lapland. I am more than happy to support him since he’s enlisting in the army soon in July. My big boy.
I tell him about the car crash, and he gives me advice about a car repair store. Jack comes back earlier than expected. He plops into his seat, sweat beading on his forehead and the smell of resin emanating from him. He seems disappointed.I pour coffee to the brim.
“Did the saw get stuck?”
Jack shakes his head and adds sugar to his mug.
“It got shattered under the tree. I stumbled...”
Silence descends slowly, like dust.
“My helmet cracked.”
“Do you want me to buy new parts when I go to the store?”
“No need.”
“But there's pruning and cutting to do first.”
Jack takes a bite out of a cinnamon bun.
“I can sharpen the axe.”
“Ask the neighbors for help, that's what they're for. You can also mow the lawn while I'm away.”
“The grass is already short— it'll die off.”
“You don't want ticks taking over! Think about your mother's joint pain. She would roll in her grave if—”
“Cremated?’
“Yes!” My answer is like a flyswatter, leaving no room for further discussion or quantum physics.
Jack is busy chewing on the bun. His regular coffee breaks, which have become part of his daily routine in his sixties, have honed impressive jowls.
We enjoy our coffee and stare at the lake. Calm as a mirror. I have a feeling Jack will soon suggest fishing. As I gather my things to leave, I call to him:
“Don't hurt yourself. Should I bring more buns?”
“I was thinking of skipping the sugar and wheat...”
I simply smile in reply.
“Can you refuel the car?” Jack asks.
I'm already off. The door slams shut in the middle of his sentence, but Jack knows better than to expect a response.
I jump into the driver's seat and immediately notice forgotten potato baskets in the back seat, but my mind drifts away before I can do anything about it. As I pass by our old well, I remember that we need to discuss connecting the cabin to a new water source. No matter what it costs, it needs to be done. Why should I agree to be responsible for our running water anymore?
I collide with something hard. Airbags abruptly inflate around me, disorienting me as my vision blurs. Struggling to escape from the tangled mess of seatbelts and inflatable bags, it feels like I'm an old person trying to climb out of a bouncy castle.
My gaze rests on the scene before me, but my thoughts can't understand it. I have plowed into a tree stump. The tree stretches over the ditch. Nearby the chainsaw lies crushed. The cutting chain is nowhere to be found.
I get back in the car. Should I phone Jack for an urgent call? Inhaling slowly helps me stay calm. Why didn’t he mention the tree stump?
Someone taps on my window.
I jump and my neck stiffens up. I reach for the window switch.
“I should have told you about...” Jack says.
“The stump?”
“Didn't you see the tree on the ground?”
“I'm sorry. I was daydreaming.”
“Great galaxy, Hazel! You're burning through our last savings as if money grew on trees!”
Jack is being truly authentic with me. I stare back at him like some big-eyed exotic species from Madagascar that I can't identify in all this chaos. Jack opens the door and starts to put the cushion back in its place. We turn on the engine, giving the accelerator a test ride.
“Let's go to a repair shop. I'm sure our insurance will cover this,” Jack suggests. “We can say that we had an accident with a reindeer.”
“You're supposed to report it to the police or game warden if you hit an animal,” I reply.
Jack pauses for a moment. He then reverses and drives forward again, but when he looks into the rear-view mirror, he slams on the brakes.
“I have a better plan.”
He retrieves an orange towing strap from the trunk, a burst of determination on his face. He connects the stump and the tow hook.
“Get ready. We’re going to take a quantum leap here.”
We buckle our seat belts with a single click as we prepare for the inevitable disaster. We had already made so many mistakes together, starting with raising our children—though sometimes failing was just part of parenting.
Jack revs up the engine. A sudden lurch forward, then Jack howls in pain as the stump smashes through the rear window, clambering through the seats and lodging itself onto the gearbox, trapping Jack's hand. He veers off toward the ditch. The Milky Way spins around us, potatoes fly in the air and suddenly, all is quiet. We find ourselves upside down—surrounded by earthy potatoes and broken glass.
I try to break the silence:
“I just remembered: Billy's friend can repair cars at the vocational school much cheaper.”
Jack looks so pale, his face almost white. I guess he’s contemplating the next step.
Through the cracked windshield, I see the chainsaw chain lying in the ditch. How did it come to be rusting away? Maybe everything will go back to normal if we sit here and wait.
It feels almost as if we are flying in outer space, my nerves slowly calming down. But then a sudden stillness strikes that is anything but soothing.
“Jack, I’m feeling a bit dizzy…”
No answer.
“Jack...”
I snap open my eyes and the scene in front of me has changed drastically. It’s like I’ve been sucked into some kind of surreal void.
I hear a tapping noise on the window. An apology and then a loud thud; a huge rock has been hurled through the glass. A stench of strong aftershave ferments around me. A burly arm reaches across to release the seatbelt. An elderly man growls something crude, nothing like Jack's usual scout-like words.
My eyes close as I'm being cradled away, and visions of Jack's mathematics and symbols flicker around in my mind. Is the soul truly free when there is no force of gravity to pull us down?
I don't know who my savior is, but I can sense his worry as his face reddens. He is in military garb.
I come to as I feel my head thudding against the rubble. Instantly, I yearn to run away, contemplating that perhaps this experience is only a dream, and I'm back in the cabin chamber, tucked securely underneath a cosy blanket. A blanket that grants me the power to perform heroic acts like disappearing in a puff of smoke.
“Are you okay?” he speaks in a familiar voice.
Fingers brush over my clothes, picking out pieces of glass. My pocket contains an odd bulge—a potato? Suddenly, everything clicks: an aged Billy, wearing a major's rank insignia. How could he have achieved that rank so fast?
“Son, what are you doing on this tree ring?”
Billy peers at me from across the way, accompanied by a mysterious female figure. “We came to check on how you're doing,” Billy says. “Do you remember what happened?”
I raise my head and look around. There's nobody in the driver's seat of the car.
“Where is Jack?” I manage.
Billy furrows his brows like a detective would when weighing evidence. An image of the classic TV show Columbo flashes through my mind—he could lull suspects into a false sense of security before dropping the hammer of his sharp intellect on their inconsistencies. But I'm not hiding anything here. Though why are modern shows so bad? That's another mystery entirely.
“Mom, what were you doing out here? The road is an absolute disaster zone, with the car smashed up in the ditch.”
My thoughts swim haphazardly as Billy reads something from my expression, then casts his eyes towards his new girlfriend for assistance.
I try to get up but it hurts too much. Instead, I reach into my pocket and feel a sandy-sharp potato there. Maybe I can still wash it off.
“I’m fine,” I reply. “I need to get back to plowing the field... baking buns for Jack... buying a chainsaw...”
The darkness returns and I feel my body shiver. I'm in the car, traveling down bumps I've known for quite some time. Soon, I’m settled inside the cabin's living room on the couch. The coffee maker is gurgling in the corner of the room. Billy is on a call with a doctor about how to deal with grief and coping alone; it seems someone had died while cutting down a tree last year. He gets furious and threatens to take away the keys from the person he's talking to. It might be a good idea; many people have too many keys that they don't use anyway.
My head is spinning with thoughts about Jack's absence. Where did he go?Someone runs water over potatoes while a pot clatters on the stovetop. My temper rises as I wait for Jack's return. I won't stay here by myself without an explanation from him. I call out for Jack until there's no sound left but my coughing voice.
I crave sausage soup, and I know I must go to the store. As I try to move forward, I am wading through tar. They guide me to the coffee table. According to Jack, time runs faster the more hunched your back becomes. Let it be and let us sit here, motionless, gazing at the tips of our shoes. Surely, time has slowed down in this moment.
Billy reaches out and takes my hand. A handsome, greying gentleman. His girlfriend also places her hand on top of the pile. Her name is Ewa. A beautiful name, something familiar about her.
But did I hear her calling me mother?
In the yard, a squirrel hops with a cone in its mouth. It freezes and stares at me. I avert my gaze. My hands suddenly look wrinkled. I summon the inner strength that I've been striving to find for an eternity:
“Do we have to leave now?”
Billy exchanges glances with Ewa and then looks outside.
“You don't have to walk this path alone, Mother.”
We finish our coffee without saying another word. The wind sweeps across the lake. A pair of swans take flight, and a duet of gentle honks echo across the water. A shivering cold envelops me. Billy and Ewa take me to the car. The potatoes can wait.
The sun blazes brightly above us as we travel the cabin road; shapeless clouds dot the horizon and suddenly I sense a presence—as if someone is waving to me.
I surrender.
I believe I will be warmly welcomed.

This ones gonna be a long one so I'm sorry, but this is also for me to put this out into the world so I can be over it and move on with my life.
Tldr at end.
Let me give you backstory prior to meeting my ex. I was always a go getter, always had multiple things going on in life (played for a band and did local tours, did home rennovation, worked on cars, had multiple hobbies, played video games with friends etc.) And always was pushing myself to be better. 1 1/2 years before I met my now ex, I broke my neck. This hampered my lifestyle for about 3 months. My Stepdouche kicked me out of my house because I refused to put up shelving in the garage because and I quote "if you are able to play guitar you can easily put a shelf up." Mind you the day after surgery I had my parents bring me my acoustic guitar so I could make sure I still had normal function of my hands and muscles. And the doctors gave me a strict 10lb lift limit and not to raise my hands over my neck until I was healed from my fusion. Much to my and my moms pleading, the stepdouche wouldnt see it any other way.
So 3 months out of surgery I end up getting a full time job and end up working anywhere from 60-75 hours a week in the auto industry. My healing was going remarkable and I was getting my life together. Found a place to live, dumped my cheating ex, and was still playing gigs with my band and doing all my hobbies inbetween the busy workload. All seemed to be okay at this point and I seemed to be a fully functioning/never broken adult.
After about a year of this crazy workload, enter meeting my ex.
Almost 6 years ago I met my ex (July 2017). She was 19 and I was 22. For our first date I picked her up near her parents house at about 6ish. I dont remember all the details of the date, I wish I did (Ill explain soon) but theres two major things I remember. We clicked almost instantly had very similar views on life and what we expected out of eachother and ourselves. And secondly that I dropped her back off at her house at 6am. I had work in 30 minutes and that was the only reason I cut the date off.
So we started dating. Every day we would see eachother. And things went very well for a long time. I bought her food every night we would go and do things multiple times a week, and we generally had a very very healthy and good relationship. I tried to get her to come to car meets with me and my friends but she ended up just sitting in the car for hours by herself and when I would ask her to come out and hang out she would refuse. Nbd, I eventually stopped bringing her along because she was just sitting in the car. Figured that wasnt her scene so I figured id just keep that as guy time. I asked her out in early sept to be my girlfriend and she said she wasnt ready. We talked and she agreed to be exclusive to me however. A few weeks later she came back and asked me about being together and than we were official.
Our first major challenge came in January.
She went to a trade school for 2 months 4 states away. She was thankfully only gone for 2 months and I told her not to worry its only 2 months and I love her alot so Ill be right here when she got back. Thanks to my awesome boss and coworkers I planned it so I flew out to see her every 3 weeks. So she left, was alone for 3 weeks than I flew out for the weekend, than she was alone again for 3 weeks than I flew out to see her again for a weekend than she had 3 more weeks alone than she came back.
The first time I went up to visit her (it was a suprise) her mood completely shifted like she was a new person. She wasnt all lovey dovey like we had been, she was cold and distant. I chalked this up to her being alone and away frok everyone and its just part of her growth. It wasnt but well get to that.
During one of those weekend visits she took me to the shop to introduce me to her teacher and some of the other people. I remember one thing in particular happened. She was introducing me to everyone and all seemed good. The teacher was awesome, his wife was super nice and a few other older gentlemen I met were cool to talk to. Than we walk into the back of the shop and there was a guy probably 2 years older than me back there. She went up and introduced me as following "This is my friend, anon." I shook the dudes hand but he didnt seem interested in knowing me or even wanting to meet me.
Our first fight was here. I asked her why she was ashamed of calling me her BF and she had a million excuses. She was a bit eccentric (which is why I liked her) so I figured thats just the way she is. Nbd.
Now inbetween my two visits to her, I had got sent in a car from work to pick up another car and the rideshare I was in got hit and my neck fusion came loose. I essentially lost my job, lost my paycheck, lost my housing and lost all my hobbies and band over the next 2 months.
Her odd bevahior continued when she got back however and I noticed during the group photo of her class, she and the other young dude were standing close together. (Mind you I probably was over reacting given I was just cheated on but all the circumstances just seemed too much fir me at the time.) I tried to talk to her about what was going on but she was just cold and distant. I told her how I didnt appreciate being called a friend and made to seem like Im just some dude she knows and not someone who she is in a committed relationship with.
I dont remember when this conversation happened but I remember my ex finally telling me that she overheard a women giggling while I was on the phone with her the day before I left on the first trip to see her.
Long story short one of my good friends from middle/high school got a job working with me and she was kind enough to swing me by the airport on friday mornings to see her and pick me up when I got back sunday night. Thats who she heard giggling.
I told her if that was what is causing all this why didnt she talk to me about it and it could have been cleared up right away. She said she over reacted and thought it was much worse but said she can get over it (paraphrasing)
Well after that life went to crap for a while. I moved in with my grandparents. Couldnt do anything fun, couldnt take her out on the dates we used to do multiple times a week and I was in a sour mood a lot. Always in and out of doctor appointments etc. She had pulled away from me physically and it just hurt. She was still there sometimes emotionally but I felt like she just didnt physically see me as a partner.
My second surgery was in September I think. Instead of going through the front of my neck like the first time, they went through the back and my nervous system. This surgery happened about 8 months after the crash. I saw hell. No other way to describe it. 2 of the worst weeks of my life. I remember 3 very vivid things about those 2 weeks. One was literally hell. The second was a nurse aggressively rolling me on my side while I was asleep jarring me awake and sending a tremendous amount of pain throughout my body. The third was me getting up out of bed to go to the bathroom and having one of the loudest and longest farts I think Ive ever laid. I could hear people in adjacent rooms laughing. I use to have the video of this fart but I dont anymore.
This second surgery messed me up beyond belief. Physically, mentally and emotionally. The worst part is that my brain was running on like half power. Ive always been a smart guy, decently high IQ, and while memory was never a strong suit for me my memory was now nothing. Id forget things people told me just minutes after them telling me it... This was one of my biggest hurdles.
When I got home I refused pain pills and ended up throwing up blood. My ex was there by my side through this. She later told me that she was very mad at me because when I was heavily sedated for those two weeks I didnt acknowledge her. To be fair, I dont remember a single person who visited me that second surgery.
A little less than a week back from surgery I had my bearings set a little more straight and was depressed with where I was. I broke up with my ex and told her I cant provide her the life that she deserves. I was expecting pre surgery to be up and running in another 3 months like the first surgery but this was a completely different animal. I knew this wasnt going to be a quick recovery.
So I told her to go find someone better who can take care of her and her needs and spoil her like (i thought) she deserved. She begged and pleaded and after a few months I took her back because I loved her so much and if she was really willing to stick by my side than I would give her everything I could.
The recovery road was long. Little over 3 years. It took a huge toll on not only me but on my Ex. I hit new levels of depression, all my ways of letting out my emotions were now gone (playing music, drawing art, racing cars, etc) I lost my purpose in life, lost my will to push forward and overall just became super lazy about everything. I was sick of hitting rock bottom and starting iver again (this was about the 5th time Ive had to start over from nothing)
Our relationship definitely had its ups and downs during this time. For instance we went on multiple road trips to over 14 states, but she also would hold any physicalintamacy back from me for extended periods of time for seemingly no reason. She lived alone and I lived with my grandparents still. I would be over at her place at least once a week. And wed watch movies or go out and do light activity dates. Though, I was a bit of an ass and constantly would complain if something was too much or if I was in a bad mood and just didnt want to do anything.
Throughout this entire time Im fighting to get disability and settle my lawsuit with the insurance company for my injuries.
Well we hit a crossroads 2 years ago. I just got my disability and got screwed out of my backpay so I didnt have as much as I should have got.
During this time I find out my exs first BF had treated her in a way that was very forceful when they were together and commitied unalived recently. And our rocky physicallove life went nearly to zero at this point. I figured its no big deal shes just dealing with this bombshell of not ever being able to get closure and is probably just not taking it well.
I than find out my whole family was moving out of state. And my GF is highly considering moving out of state aswell. So we take another road trip because I wanted to find a place I could buy a house with a downpayment from my settlement and have a stable living situation for the first time in my life.
My exs parents had moved to a new state about a year after we started dating. So they offered to out us up while we found a place to live/rent. We had gone there a few times to visit over the years and thought that would be a good idea.
So this is where the crossroads were.
I had 3 options.
1) Build out an RV and live the nomadic wandering life I always wanted to live. (I told my ex about this many times and she seemed luke warm at best to the idea)
2) Move with my moms side of the family to State A
3) Move away from everyone I know and love to be with my GF and move to State B where I know no one.
I obviously went with 3. I spent A LOT (over half my settlement) of money moving to this state with her. She moved 2 months before I did and I drove up with her to move her. She ended up making a friend at her new job and I was happy for her because we both are pretty anti social. I got up there right before halloween. So she took me out with some coworkers on Halloween. She just sat at a table and didnt say much. Didnt introduce me to anyone and overall it was a pretty crap night.
At this point we had zero physicalintimacy in the relationship. We moved out of her parents place in 3 months and I figured that might help fix a little bit of the intimacy issues... it didnt. I suggested she see a therapist so she can work through this stuff and maybe we see a couples therapist so that we can work on us a bit more. I was still head over heels for this women and did everything I could to help her.
My depression took another turn for the worse at this point. I now had no friends. No family. I was all alone with this girl that I love that doesnt hold my hand or give me kisss on the cheeks or even a hug anymore. Id take her on dates and not even get a thanks. My already bad habits got worse. I kept pushing however to try and be better for her but it was never enough.
I am HORRIBLE at doing chores. Ever since I was a kid. I got better at them as I grew up but I aas back to a little kid by the time we were in our new place. We tried lots of things. I was working every day to be better at them and be mindful of them. I simply would just forget. Or maybe my blinders were on and I just wouldnt do them. However even if very little I was doing more and more every day. My body was giving out on me though and some days I couldnt do more than a hour before I was exhausted. She came to me a few months back and said "you need to do more " so I did. I pushed myself harder and harder. It was never enough.
Around this time she brought up that she wanted to go bear hunting with 3 of her guy co workers. I flat out said no. Not only is it innappropriate but I dont know a single one of those coworkers, dont know if she even told them shes in a relationship, and my ex is avidly against ever using a gun herself. This was a fighting point thats been getting brought up for months now. She seems to think its perfectly okay and I dont see it that way.
She always had something to tell me how I was wrong. She told me she hated that I was home all the time (we both are homebodies) she hated that I never let her go out with her co workers (I told her multiple times to go out aand hang out with them. Just let me know whats going on and occasionally invite mee out with you all so I can make some friends too) she said I never did chores even though she agreed I was doing a lot better and picking uo my slack. It just hurt a lot because I feeel like I absolutely had things I needed to work on but at least I was putting in the effort. Meanwhile she has never once tried to fix our physical love side which is the ONLY thing I have ever asked of her.
Well a month ago she broke up with me. I begged and pleaded that we could make it work but she was set on it. The next day I caught her on a backroad going on a date with a guy. She swears "its just dinner with a co worker." She did this 3 days before I had a trip for my Bday back to my home state. Long story short my trip that should have been about $1.2k and 2 weeks long ended up costing me $4.5k and I cut it short to get home.
When I get home I find other guys laundry in my house... than I find out my now ex doesnt come home until 4am drunk. (This really makes me mad because shes been curious about drinking and weed and I told her we could do it so she hhas a safe place at home to get as crazy as she wants. She always had a excuse why she didnt want to do it.) At this point im livid. Its clear shes been setting up another relationship/fwb situation and just stringing me along. Theres a lot of details that have happened over the last month but its mostly just her saying "we might work out but you have to leave the house for me to find out."
I also find out that she got a therapist and did everything I had asked of her for the past 2+ years the second she broke up with me.
My heart was broken. Im completely alone. I got no where to go. Every night now she is out til 2am with this dude, going on dates and even sleeping over at his place multiple times a week. She also is trying to kick me out of the house although we agreed that she would move out since I have 9 vehicles and the place we are staying is on mulitple acres. She flipped this and got her parents involved and they are all now trying to kick me out of the house. Even though her parents have more than enough room for her to stay with them for a while. But nope Im the bad guy and I need to move. And trust me, I want to move but sadly theres nowhere to rent. In a 60 mile radius there is 1 rental. Yes just one. All apartments waiting lists are 1 1/2 years +. My life is in shambles and I now have to start over once again.
Theres two major things that came up in our conversations over this past month that really completely destroyed me. 1) I was only 19 when we got together I shouldnt be locked down by you and stuck with you. 2) I dont date my best friend, and you never were my best friend.
Tldr
I know a lot was said in here but there also was a lot not said. Im not a perfect person. No one is. We all have our flaws. And I made many mistakes in this relationship. But I also own up to those which my Ex never would admit she ever did anything wrong. But If you made it this far I just want you to know. If you see red flags stop ignoring them. Do NOT move your entire life for someone and most importantly give up your material possessions.
Im just so devistated about how quick she moved on like a light switch and how awful she is being to me and how Im stuck here in this house while she already is shagging up with another person. It just really hurts and theres nothing I can do about it. I know this is for best in the long run. And we never would have worked out. But that doesnt stop it from hurting this bad. I just wish I didnt uproot my life for her and give her as much energy as I did.

Hi,
I was invited to this bustling community, so I hope to find someone. I am from Houston, Texas. Well, I live just outside of Houston, but people who live near Houston usually say they are from Houston.
Anyway, I am 25 years old, and I was studying medicine overseas. I have permanently returned to the USA to continue my education. I work part time as an uber eats driver. I spend most of my time studying. This might be a relatively long post.
Hobbies/Interests: My hobbies are similar to most people, and we don't have to share the same hobbies or interests. - Movies and TV (Sci-fi, horror, and crime) - Exercising, especially running - Food (Thai, Mediterranean, and Indian) - Reading - Boardgames and videogames - Nature-y stuff. Walking outside. - Music (Instrumental, orchestral, and rap). I listen to songs from each genre. - Investing
I want to pickup more hobbies and interests. I would like to learn how to play the piano and violin. I want to learn a new language. I want to do outdoor activities such as hiking and maybe even camping. I have always wanted to learn video effects. It's great if you do one or multiple of these things, so I can learn or participate too. We can pickup a joint hobby too. However, I am a homebody. I would describe myself as reserved, calm, but adventurous. I like to tease when I feel comfortable around someone.

• I have no physical requirements because I like people of all sizes and shapes. My tastes vary. However, I do want someone who is healthy, not necessarily skinny. I would like someone who is understanding, open, versatile, and elegant among other things. I believe romance and intimacy are vital to a relationship, so I am drawn to physical affection. I love food, so that is one way to get to my heart.
  
• Physical Description: I am 5' 7" ~ ish. I have short black hair right now, but I am looking to grow it out again. My skin is light caramel, and I have dark brown eyes. My body is slim to average, but I would like to think I am fit. I enjoy running, and I like lifting too. I workout at home since I do not have a gym membership. I might sport some stubble, but I am usually clean shaven. My clothing style is atrocious. I usually wear shorts and a shirt. I need to improve my clothing game.
  
• Religion & Politics: I like to call myself a non-resistant nonbeliever, which is similar to agnosticism. I attended a Christian church when I was younger, and my undergraduate school was Catholic. My parents practice Hinduism, so I have some exposure to religion. I am open to anyone regardless of religious affiliation, and I would definitely like to learn. The same applies to politics. I think it is important to be challenged and to grow as a result. It's hard to pinpoint my political stance, but it is neither conservative nor democratic. My political ideology is always evolving.
  
• Marriage & Kids: I envision a meaningful connection that is built on the premise of transcending the confines of societal expectations of matrimony and children, for I firmly believe that true love and commitment cannot be reduced to a legal contract or the obligation of raising offspring. I do not see myself in marriage. I do not see the point. While some people might find it strange, I believe that a strong and meaningful relationship doesn't require a marriage certificate. However, I would throw that out the window if the right person wanted marriage. Only Siths deal in absolutes. I prefer to focus on building a connection with someone without the added pressure and expectations of marriage. I also do not want kids. I value my time and would rather use it to focus on my partner. If anything, I'd consider adoption, but I'm leaning toward no kids. What more can I say? You know about me. Tell me about yourself.
  
• Please message me via DM or PM. No ghosters please as if that will deter them. I'd like to talk regularly to build a connection. I cannot tell you how frustrating it is to be ghosted or receive messages from people who only send me one word replies. Do not message me if you want me to buy you items. I will not buy anything for you. I might have mentioned too much in this post. You don't have to read everything, and I don't mind repeating myself. I am willing to send a picture to verify. I expect the same if you ask me for a picture. If you have any advice on improving my post, then let me know. Peace out.
  

Previous
Writer's note: The last section has a big time anime trope lol. And the best part is I hinted at some of it a bit in one of the recent chapters.
Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Amina stood nearly six inches taller than Nguyen as she approached and stood directly in front of him.
To his credit, he didn't balk as she glared down at him. He stood tall and straight and met her eye to eye, albeit at an upward angle.
"My husband has, or at least HAD, a lot of respect for you FIRST SERGEANT." She said sternly, ignoring Werner and the other soldier. "He lost a lot of that as a result of your..... inactions.... in the desert."
Nguyen's jaw clenched for a moment. "That makes two of us." He said in response.
Amina stared at him for a moment longer, then nodded and turned back to Werner.
"Arm your people." She said to the Ambassador. Then she looked down at Nguyen again. "Deploy them to the refugee sector to aide in the evacuation. Only fire at any golems that pose a threat or appear to be attempting to escape the perimeter of the cordon." She glanced at the other members of her command staff. "Restraining anklets stay on though. And you are to report in immediately once this has settled down."
Then she lowered herself a bit and spoke softly.
"And if any Earth personnel ever act against my people again. You will not have time to regret it, and you will not need James to be your executioner." She whispered into Nguyen's ears. Then she pulled back and looked him in the eyes again.
Nguyen swallowed, then nodded curtly.
"Understood." He said. Then he looked over at Werner, who nodded.
And with that the two Earth soldiers took off at a jog, leaving Werner behind.
As they turned the corner, one of the junior officers from earlier came running around the corner with a large jar.
"Your pickled onions General." The soldier said uncertainly.
Amina grabbed the jar greedily and moved back to her position in the room.
-----------------------------------
Alixan and Veliry, the latter of which had only just arrived, crept through the still hot tunnel carefully.
Alixan, being close to eight feet tall, had to practically crouch to move through the hastily excavated and reinforced earth as he moved. Veliry only had to hunch a bit every now and then when her new antlers brushed against lower portions of the ceiling.
"They summoned an elemental." The Prince said. "In their own control room."
"That's what the our Agent said." Veliry replied.
They had spoken , briefly, to the party of subterranean forces as they'd rapidly evacuated. Many of them had been carried out on litters, their bodies burned from the excess heat and steam that had been created before the doorway leading to the Agency's room had been destroyed.
"Won't be much evidence left then." Alixan said. "Just like last time, unfortunately."
Veliry nodded. A fire elemental was a good way to destroy evidence. Likely the reason the Agency seemed so fond of using them. Though where they were getting them was anyone's guess.
"Still." She said as they rounded the last corner. "We must do our..... dilligence?" She said uncertainly.
The uncertainty was shared by both of the mages as they saw not just a destroyed door. But a second door a few yards away, which was leaning across the hallway. They sensed no magical energy coming from it. And unlike everything else in the tunnel it was neither scorched, nor terribly warm.
Alixan carefully lifted it up and was surprised to find that it had a note on it.
Not written on parchment and tacked to the door.
Not carved into it as if with a knife.
Instead it was engraved into the wood of the door as if it had been built specifically for the task of having the message on it. It was also written in a style of Petravian that hadn't been used in nearly three centuries, though both of them could read it thanks to their studies as mages.

Bother yourselves with us no longer. We have larger tasks to tackle. Enjoy the final days of your paltry kingdom in ignorance. And thank you for ridding me of ambitious fools.

"Whoever they are, something tells me that they're being sincere." Alixan said after he read the message, and Veliry felt inclined to agree with him. "And that makes me more than a little concerned."
-----------------------------------
Even with his inhuman speed, the excitement was over before James got to it.
He felt the intense magical heat dissipate, then disappear entirely, when he was only a block away. Golems he had passed on his way over were already on the ground dead, their amorphous forms melting to reveal the lifeless bodies within. James felt pity for the former refugees, who had moved into this are of the city for a chance at restarting their lives after the previous devastation, only to be violated by the Agency.
When he got to the sight of all the action, he was surprised to find that it wasn't a building. Instead a large cluster of Petravian soldiers and mages were clustered around the entrance to some kind of cellar, or crypt or something. A lot of the mages were helping to heal people who looked like Petravian soldiers, but with what he recognized as mining gear. Many of them were burned, and the few mages that were among those being healed had the tell tale black veins of magical overuse.
He found himself standing next to a rather oddly clothed pair of were-folk, who he looked at curiously as he recognized the rotary grenade launcher that one of them was wearing on a shoulder strap. And also the DMR equipped CT-6.5 that the other was holding loosely. They looked at him in mild shock and his eyes widened as he saw the goggles on their faces, which looked familiar even though he'd never seen them before.
Then the crowd around them quieted. The tall fox-like one's head snapped up and looked over James.
"Chief!" The were-squirrel next to the fox said as they, evidently a woman if James's ears were correct, moved to run over to the figure emerging from the tunnel.
"Chief?" James asked as he turned to follow the squirrel's movement.
"Holy shit." The fox said as he too moved to approach the newcomers.
"Goddam." James said as he saw them.
One of them was a tall, if somewhat gangly looking, man in armor of a brilliant blue. It looked like the highest quality plate armor James had ever seen, though it did not cover their hands or feet. And yet even as he watched, the armor seemed to melt away, leaving behind water and vapor as it did.
James's head quirked to the side as he recognized the person underneath, though he'd never seen him like this before.
"Marcos?" He asked.
The old man, and Royal Arch Mage, was nothing like James was used to seeing him. Typically he was a hunched over, robed, geriatric who looked one hard fall away from death. But as James saw him carrying out the limp, burned, form of a were-person of some kind, he looked like a warrior. The grey tunic he wore was wet from the melting armor, and revealed musculature that surprised James. His sleeves looked to have been burned off, revealing wiry arms with whipcord musculature. He also wasn't hunched over anymore, and as a result he seemed to be close to six feet tall.
"I need healers." The old man said. The slow, almost halting, speech pattern he normal spoke in all but gone. Then he held up the burned form in his arms. "This man is very nearly dead."
"Chief Vickers!" The squirrel exclaimed again as she and the fox ran over.
"Vickers?" James asked silently as he saw the people around begin moving to help.
And he realized that Vickers was the burnt body Marcos was carrying.
"Oh.... Shit." James said as he moved to join everyone.

I am asking for quotes in Portugal for a solar system. My roof is east-west facing and gets a load of uninterrupted sun in summer, but in winter there is a large hill to the south that the sun dips behind gradually covering the roof in shade. The panels will be in a line from south to north (6 to 8). I asked about power optimisers to see if it would squeeze more power as the shadow travelled over the roof over that time.
I got this answer, does it make sense?
“I've been consulting the engeeniring team and we share the same idea about the optimizers which is, the optimizers in this specific situation, won't be a good solution. Adding the optimizers to the entire instalations, resulting in 1 optimizer per panel, will not optimize the solution, instead it will actually weaken the purpose of the optimizer itself. Considering in 1 or 2 panels can improve something, but it won't be a good help, since the mountain is situated south of ur property.”

Lots of notes from my first trip to Italy in late May. Maybe this will help other first-timers. We did Rome - Pompeii - Sorrento - Positano - Florence over 10 days.
Cities:
Rome: Get out early in the day. On our best day, we strolled to Trevi fountain before most of the shops had opened. We got to see them clean out the money from the fountain and that was oddly satisfying. By around 10 am...all hell breaks loose. It goes from kind of quiet to 'Where did they all come from?'. If there is a restaurant that you have heard of from Instagram...good luck getting in. Call or visit to put your name down. But here's the deal...we found lots of food options and I swear I never had a bad meal. Some were better than others but...good grief, it's all so damn good.
Vatican: I want to start an online petition to change the name to Catholic Disneyland. We booked a 3-hour tour and from the moment we arrived to the moment we left we were shoulder-to-shoulder with people. It was ridiculous and it made the day very very long. There is so much to take in and you are constantly being jostled by people…I can say I did it and I’d never go back.
Colosseum: We booked an underground tour as well as the main tour and that was amazing. You see where the gladiators came in and how they used to flood the floor of the Coliseum and do naval battles! The tour underground was small and you really got a chance to see how it all worked. Romans were impressive engineers and this spot showcases that.
The Forum: Our Colosseum tour included the Forum and…I liked it better. The view from the top of the Palatine Hill was worth the steps. Our guide really helped to bring this area alive for us.
Pompeii: Book a tour. There is so much and you’d miss half of it if someone wasn’t walking you through. We took an archaeologist tour and it was amazing. 2 hours and it felt like it was over in 20 minutes. You can take a regional train line directly to Pompeii and walk to the entrance. There is free (!!) luggage storage at the gate and the restaurant across the street was pretty good...but 'pretty good' in Italy is still 200x better than 'good' in the US.
Positano: Beautiful to look at…not much to do. Lots of shops…but they’re the same shops you’ll see all over this area. The restaurants were…ok. We went to a beach club, got 2 seats ($70), and paid too much for drinks. It was heaven.
Florence: Recommend walking to the top of Michelangelo Hill for the view. I think I should have been more impressed but by the time we got here it was 'ok...another church...cool....'
Weather: It rained every day we were there. Most of the time it rained in the afternoon. Also, most days the weather forecast never said rain was an option. Not a big deal, but bring a jacket.
AirBnB: Both our AirBnBs were great and hosted by fantastic people. Both were located near Piazzas and the listings did say 'some noise at night'. Ummm....yeah...that 'some noise' lasted until 2 am at both places. Bring. Ear. Plugs. Italians like to have a good time...for a long time.
Stuff:
Crime/Scams: This freaked me out a bit before we left. We bought cross-body bags and kept everything zipped up. Maybe it was too much but we made it through without incident. In Rome if anyone offers you a bracelet or says 'nice shoes' or 'Hey American!', put on your best impression of a new yorker and blow right past them. One guy through a bracelet to my son who instinctively caught it...and threw it back.
On the train from Naples to Pompeii it was standing room only...and about 90 muggy degrees. A guy in a down jacket was eyeing the young woman in front of me and paying very close attention to her bag. Her friends noticed and maneuvered him away from her but it was a reminder that you need to keep your eyes open...especially in crowded situations.
Verizon: We used their TravelPass for $10 a day; unlimited text and data. Having Google Maps and Google Translate whenever we needed it was worth it! Check your Verizon account…we found that we had ‘credits’ for 5 days that we could use!
Viator: We booked all our tours through this app and I could not be more pleased. Maybe we were lucky but all of the 5 tours we booked were fantastic. Would highly recommend it.
Ferryhopper: I would be careful here. We showed up for our trip from Sorrento to Positano. The boat hand looked at our ticket and said ‘I don’t know this ticket, I cannot take it’. There were a few exchanges and they let us on. I asked about it when we left and they said ‘It is best to book with us and not this application. We’ve had trouble’. Thankfully we did not book a return trip and could buy tickets at Positano. Take it for what it is…a warning. You don’t want to be stuck trying to find a ride to or from your destination.
ItaliaRail: Fantastic. Clean trains that were always on time for us. Booked directly through their site and it was effortless. Check the price of business class vs. coach. For us, it was well worth the extra $18 per seat.
Uber: Total bust. You are limited to Uber Black and even then…they may not come and pick you up.
FreeNow in Rome: We used this to book taxis in Rome to pick us up and take us to the train station. Scheduled in advance and the driver showed up without a hitch.
AppTaxi, itTaxi & FreeNow in Florence: So frustrating. I think it might have to do with where we were and the time of day but it was frustrating. Wasn’t feeling my best and a taxi ride would have been helpful. I waited over an hour trying to get someone to pick us up…nothing.
And finally...I’d like to kiss the person on this sub who mentioned Mobile Passport Control. This is an app you use when you return home from Europe. You answer the standard questions, take your photo and the app creates a QR code to use during customs checkout. When we got back to JFK there was a line specifically for MPC users. Our line: 5 people….those who did not use it: 125 people and growing fast. This saved us at least an hour at the end of a 10-hour flight. DOWNLOAD IT NOW!
Ok, that's rambling but I wanted to get it out there. I really appreciate this sub. Reading about other experiences helped me make our 10 days special.

Previous / First
Writer's note: The last section has a big time anime trope lol. And the best part is I hinted at some of it a bit in one of the recent chapters.
Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Amina stood nearly six inches taller than Nguyen as she approached and stood directly in front of him.
To his credit, he didn't balk as she glared down at him. He stood tall and straight and met her eye to eye, albeit at an upward angle.
"My husband has, or at least HAD, a lot of respect for you FIRST SERGEANT." She said sternly, ignoring Werner and the other soldier. "He lost a lot of that as a result of your..... inactions.... in the desert."
Nguyen's jaw clenched for a moment. "That makes two of us." He said in response.
Amina stared at him for a moment longer, then nodded and turned back to Werner.
"Arm your people." She said to the Ambassador. Then she looked down at Nguyen again. "Deploy them to the refugee sector to aide in the evacuation. Only fire at any golems that pose a threat or appear to be attempting to escape the perimeter of the cordon." She glanced at the other members of her command staff. "Restraining anklets stay on though. And you are to report in immediately once this has settled down."
Then she lowered herself a bit and spoke softly.
"And if any Earth personnel ever act against my people again. You will not have time to regret it, and you will not need James to be your executioner." She whispered into Nguyen's ears. Then she pulled back and looked him in the eyes again.
Nguyen swallowed, then nodded curtly.
"Understood." He said. Then he looked over at Werner, who nodded.
And with that the two Earth soldiers took off at a jog, leaving Werner behind.
As they turned the corner, one of the junior officers from earlier came running around the corner with a large jar.
"Your pickled onions General." The soldier said uncertainly.
Amina grabbed the jar greedily and moved back to her position in the room.
-----------------------------------
Alixan and Veliry, the latter of which had only just arrived, crept through the still hot tunnel carefully.
Alixan, being close to eight feet tall, had to practically crouch to move through the hastily excavated and reinforced earth as he moved. Veliry only had to hunch a bit every now and then when her new antlers brushed against lower portions of the ceiling.
"They summoned an elemental." The Prince said. "In their own control room."
"That's what the our Agent said." Veliry replied.
They had spoken , briefly, to the party of subterranean forces as they'd rapidly evacuated. Many of them had been carried out on litters, their bodies burned from the excess heat and steam that had been created before the doorway leading to the Agency's room had been destroyed.
"Won't be much evidence left then." Alixan said. "Just like last time, unfortunately."
Veliry nodded. A fire elemental was a good way to destroy evidence. Likely the reason the Agency seemed so fond of using them. Though where they were getting them was anyone's guess.
"Still." She said as they rounded the last corner. "We must do our..... dilligence?" She said uncertainly.
The uncertainty was shared by both of the mages as they saw not just a destroyed door. But a second door a few yards away, which was leaning across the hallway. They sensed no magical energy coming from it. And unlike everything else in the tunnel it was neither scorched, nor terribly warm.
Alixan carefully lifted it up and was surprised to find that it had a note on it.
Not written on parchment and tacked to the door.
Not carved into it as if with a knife.
Instead it was engraved into the wood of the door as if it had been built specifically for the task of having the message on it. It was also written in a style of Petravian that hadn't been used in nearly three centuries, though both of them could read it thanks to their studies as mages.

Bother yourselves with us no longer.
We have larger tasks to tackle.
Enjoy the final days of your paltry kingdom in ignorance.
And thank you for ridding me of ambitious fools.

"Whoever they are, something tells me that they're being sincere." Alixan said after he read the message, and Veliry felt inclined to agree with him. "And that makes me more than a little concerned."
-----------------------------------
Even with his inhuman speed, the excitement was over before James got to it.
He felt the intense magical heat dissipate, then disappear entirely, when he was only a block away. Golems he had passed on his way over were already on the ground dead, their amorphous forms melting to reveal the lifeless bodies within. James felt pity for the former refugees, who had moved into this are of the city for a chance at restarting their lives after the previous devastation, only to be violated by the Agency.
When he got to the sight of all the action, he was surprised to find that it wasn't a building. Instead a large cluster of Petravian soldiers and mages were clustered around the entrance to some kind of cellar, or crypt or something. A lot of the mages were helping to heal people who looked like Petravian soldiers, but with what he recognized as mining gear. Many of them were burned, and the few mages that were among those being healed had the tell tale black veins of magical overuse.
He found himself standing next to a rather oddly clothed pair of were-folk, who he looked at curiously as he recognized the rotary grenade launcher that one of them was wearing on a shoulder strap. And also the DMR equipped CT-6.5 that the other was holding loosely. They looked at him in mild shock and his eyes widened as he saw the goggles on their faces, which looked familiar even though he'd never seen them before.
Then the crowd around them quieted. The tall fox-like one's head snapped up and looked over James.
"Chief!" The were-squirrel next to the fox said as they, evidently a woman if James's ears were correct, moved to run over to the figure emerging from the tunnel.
"Chief?" James asked as he turned to follow the squirrel's movement.
"Holy shit." The fox said as he too moved to approach the newcomers.
"Goddam." James said as he saw them.
One of them was a tall, if somewhat gangly looking, man in armor of a brilliant blue. It looked like the highest quality plate armor James had ever seen, though it did not cover their hands or feet. And yet even as he watched, the armor seemed to melt away, leaving behind water and vapor as it did.
James's head quirked to the side as he recognized the person underneath, though he'd never seen him like this before.
"Marcos?" He asked.
The old man, and Royal Arch Mage, was nothing like James was used to seeing him. Typically he was a hunched over, robed, geriatric who looked one hard fall away from death. But as James saw him carrying out the limp, burned, form of a were-person of some kind, he looked like a warrior. The grey tunic he wore was wet from the melting armor, and revealed musculature that surprised James. His sleeves looked to have been burned off, revealing wiry arms with whipcord musculature. He also wasn't hunched over anymore, and as a result he seemed to be close to six feet tall.
"I need healers." The old man said. The slow, almost halting, speech pattern he normal spoke in all but gone. Then he held up the burned form in his arms. "This man is very nearly dead."
"Chief Vickers!" The squirrel exclaimed again as she and the fox ran over.
"Vickers?" James asked silently as he saw the people around begin moving to help.
And he realized that Vickers was the burnt body Marcos was carrying.
"Oh.... Shit." James said as he moved to join everyone.

I didn't bother calling the DM even though I was upset, because it hadn't worked so far. So next week rolled around we all met up and when we walked in the DM was so happy to announce 2 things. The first was she had made a choice to open up 3.5 into the game. Now I knew a good bit about 3.5 because that's the edition I started learning on and so I was happy. I knew I could make something stronger but I had to ask how would this mesh with 5e? As far as I knew the two systems weren't compatible without a LOT of game knowledge and home brewing to convert the stuff. Knowledge I doubted she had. She assured me however that oh no, the 3.5 stuff wasn't for players, silly me, no it was for her. She would be pulling monsters right out of 3.5 for us to fight no conversion needed just as written that's what we are fighting. Which again to those of us who had played for a while this sounded like a horrible idea.
Her second bit of good news was the addition of a new player. He joined and was making a paladin. She gestured to the guy who looked bright, happy, hopeful, and filled with the thrill of a game to come. Everything in me wanted to pull him aside and just say "run, don't look back, just run!" But instead I found myself sitting down with a fake smile and just said "Good luck."
The game started and we were being stopped by every NPC to just reiterate the quest we had been given, to find out who was attacking travelers. Every single NPC just wanted to tell us the same way so she could see how we reacted and get her roleplay fix, after an hour of this Paladin was still sitting there not introduced just patiently waiting his turn smiling and seeming to dance in his chair with anticipation. We made it out of the city with some harsh words to NPC's and went to searching. Didn't take long before we were at the camp of the bandits.
This was good I thought, bandits were fine and if this had been planned maybe it would be a better fight than the orcs. So we scout the camp and after a couple of perception and knowledge checks we kind out it is a camp of 10 Stone Giants!
Now, I have a good knowledge of monsters and I've DMed a lot of 3.5 games so I knew by heart that 3.5 stone giants were a cr of 8 for one of them, we were level 2! We investigated as much as we could with the veterans and I trying to figure out if there was some trick to this, the only information we got was that the leader was limping like he had a broken leg. Ok injured but that is still 9 fully healthy CR 8 creatures that can sent us back to character generation in one hit. Even the new players were confused, oddly enogh even Bard was confused, seems he knew nothing about this. So we all got to talking. We knew the rule that we weren't getting any XP if we didn't kill anything, however we COULDN'T beat these. So after about twenty minutes of talk we decided to go in and try to talk our way out of it.
The giants were willing to talk and told us their story, that they were driven from their home in the mountains by a threat, they set up a new home in a cave at the base of the mountain but were driven out by another threat. Then they told us if we helped them get rid of one of the threats they would make amends with the kingdom and serve their time for the crimes they committed. After all their best warrior was injured by this threat.
Bard, Barbarian, and Druid all were excited to help the giants while Wizard, Cleric, and I were all looking at each other wondering how the heck we could take on something that was stronger than a stone giant? This is where the story was going though so maybe it was something not strong but clever, something we could beat?
It had been a couple of hours now and Paladin was still waiting patiently to be introduced, still happy and smiling listening to what was going on. Till we finally found him in a giant nest, with three massive eggs. One of which had just hatched a baby white dragon.... Everyone rushed to free him while Wizard, Cleric, and I were telling everyone to run. Bard, Barbarian, and Druid however had other plans. It was a baby after all so they started lobbing lamp oil, alchemist fire, and matches into the nest to kill it. Wizard added a fire ball to hopefully get everyone going, I turned to Cleric and whispered. "There is no way we are fighting an adult white dragon, what CR would that even be?!" She shrugged and the killing continued with people wanting to loot up until the DM interrupted saying.
"The cries of the babies burning to death helplessly in their nest fall silent. Then a massive roar is heard over head, the sun is blotted out by a large shadow moving across the land, wing beats creating hurricane like gusts as you all look up and see far in the distance An elder, great wyrm white dragon making her way back to her nest." Druid "Oh yeah we get to fight a dragon!" Barbarian "Awesome, bet!" Bard "I want to try to seduce it!" Barbarian "Bet bro!" Paladin "DM, you said elder great wyrm, am I safe to assume this means we can't fight it?"
DM "Yep, you have no other choice but to run away, isn't this awesome? Now you have a goal to come back to. Something to really push you to level up. So the party runs away and makes it back to the stone giants, they ask you how you did?"
Long and tedious talks with the giants while we hear about the dragon now going to the kingdom we were supposed to help and destroying buildings because of what we did with the nest pass and we ask the giants about their cave. Maybe we could fix that? We get the full information about it and find out that the cave is home to a male, elder great wyrm red dragon, that since the white dragon is destroying parts of the kingdom it has joined her and those people are now dead and dying.
I look to the DM and try to speak calmly. "So, just to be clear, there is nothing we can do here at our level? Which as I will remind you is level 2 miss DM."
All smiles she looks at me bouncing in her chair and giggling "Yep, you have to run away or you'll be caught up. But now you have something to come back to and beat at a later date. It's such a great story right? You have a goal and that's the most important part!"
We wrapped up and Paladin was all joyful actually walking out with the DM to talk to her about her story telling and commend her on giving us the quest. He had a blast while the rest of us except for bard sat around bewildered. Barbarian was the first to speak and voice his complaints, saying he hated that and felt horrible. If he had known he wouldn't have attacked the nest, Druid felt worse and took it very much to heart that they were the cause of the kingdom being destroyed. We all sat around talking and everyone came to two agreements. The first was no one was happy about this and we wanted to tell the DM. The second was everyone in the group hated confrontation and didn't want to be the one or even back up the one telling her.
I suggested Cleric be the one, detailing my past failures in calling DM and pointing out that Cleric has a way of commanding respect. This didn't fly though because Cleric didn't want to confront her. So everyone left feeling dejected, no one wanted to be the one to say we weren't having fun, and no one was brave enough to just walk away from the game. So we decided one more week, we had our "goal" so maybe, just maybe the story could start? Little did we know.... See you in part 4 for the finally.

I just got out of the appointment where I found out and my uBDPmom and eDad’s vibe is just all off and now I feel like I did something wrong by not jumping for joy and being super animated and happy. I’ve been dealing with this for three years and my old doc was super neglectful and refused to order a biopsy cuz “your body’s probably just weird.” Then the water retention from the cancer got so bad I ended up in the hospital for 5 weeks with a collapsed lung and 70 pounds of water retention they had to slowly suck off. This doesn’t feel real and I’m still in shock and processing everything.
Like literally all I got was a “why aren’t you happier what’s wrong with you” when I just kinda sat there in shock and a “well we’ve been here the whole time so we’re offended you’re not excited cuz we did work too.” Now I feel like if it finally sinks in and I get excited later, I won’t be “allowed.” Also mom is crying and avoiding everyone for who knows what reason and it’s making me feel so deflated.
I just wanna cry.

so this year i'm watching the ENTIRE Pokemon series (just for fun and since ash is gone) and I just watched who gets to keep togepi.
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you can watch the episode here:https://watch.pokemon.com/en-us/#/player?id=05ead9f45eda48df9eda1ad23972048f&channelId=pokemon-indigo-league&cameFromHome=false for free but to summarize the plot: ash found an egg 4 episodes ago, Brock nursed the egg himself for several weeks because ash let him. team rocket steals the egg and meowth nurses it for what seems to be a day. (they never specify) there is then a fight for the egg. it ends up high in the air, ash fails to catch it and Pikachu does instead and hands it to ash and Brock. the fight causes the egg to start hatching while ash and Brock are holding it. however misty shoves them out of the way a takes the egg to see it. it then hatches in her hands and see's her before anyone else. it then cuts to ash, misty, Brock and team rocket in a park arguing over who should get the egg. ash wants it because he found it, Brock and meowth each want it because they nursed it, and misty wants it because she so happened to be holding it when it hatched, and It likes her because of that. they all agree to have a tournament for the ownership of togepi. meowth beats Brock (by cheating), ash beats misty, and ash beats meowth. ash is the SUPPOSED to get togepi but misty gets it because "it likes her".
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I HEAVILY dislike this episode. misty got whatever she wanted for NO reason. every body else did something to important for togepi (even meowth) and misty got it because she rudely shoved Brock and ash out of the way to take it.
did anyone else dislike/hate this episode?

In 2020 I (18F) became disabled, my parents thought I was going to die, I on the other hand couldn’t even think. I survived but was left with terrible chronic pain. Anything, from the wrong room temperature to getting out of bed too fast is enough to make my body give up and just fall limp to the ground. Since my parents work tirelessly to afford my treatment they decided to hire a maid to keep the house clean. We’ve had several over the course of three years, which is due to most of them graduating college and moving on to building a career, which is obviously great, but this also makes it difficult to maintain order in the house. Fast forward to two months ago when this new one entered the picture. She (25F) did her job nicely and was very kind at first, but then I noticed things were turning up missing from the pantry and fridge which we brushed off as her having a harmless sweet tooth. However she’s started binge eating our stuff uncontrollably. One might guess she was starving, but the only things she eats are cookies, sweets and everything else with no nutritional value. We’ve been forced to shop more often and she seems to eat more the more food there is! Not only that but she for some reason dislikes my dog. Yesterday she texted my mom upset about my dog having shat himself and having had to wash his bum, which is a stupid lie since my house has a really open floor plan so smells travel fast and not five minutes after I left my dog (who was asleep) alone, she arrived. I heard her going straight to the fridge and then my dog came upstairs perfectly clean and dry.
Now she barely comes to work, asks for more furniture after we gifted her a dining room set to celebrate her new home and asked my parents for more money since she has to “look after” me. The last part really stung, since that happened after she found my disability certificate and not once has my condition given her extra work nor have my parents ever requested she is my caretaker. What is one supposed to do in this situation? If she needed help affording the cost of living we’d help her no questions asked, but she doesn’t, she’s even in the process of remodeling her house!

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